


Th1rteen R3asons Why

by confessyourlove



Series: Scheherazade [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Implied/Referenced Abortion, M/M, Rape, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confessyourlove/pseuds/confessyourlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can’t stop the future.<br/>You can’t rewind the past.<br/>The only way to learn the secret is... to press play. </p><p>Dean Winchester doesn’t want anything to do with the tapes Castiel Novak made. Castiel is dead, he reasons. His secrets should be buried with him. Then Castiel's voice tells Dean that his name is on the tapes—and that he is, in some way, responsible for his death. All through the night, Dean keeps listening. He follows’ Castiel's recorded words through the streets of their small town… and what he discovers changes his life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> No beta. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: Not my characters. No copyright infringement intended. This is heavily based on the novel of the same name by Jay Asher.
> 
> Note: The first chapter of this fanfiction is similar to its counterpart in the novel. This is just to set the whole scene up for the whole fanfic. Rest assured that the subsequent chapters after this will be different from the book (I swear).

“Sir?” she repeats. “How soon do you want it to get there?” 

Dean rubs his aching knuckles. Looking down at them, he realizes that the skin has split and there are splotches of dried blood on his fingers. "It doesn't matter." 

Dean watches the clerk place the box on a rubber pad. The same blue shoebox that sat on his porch just over twenty-four hours ago; rewrapped in a brown paper bag, sealed with clear packing tape, exactly as he had received it. But now, it is addressed with a new name. A false name that will lead to a real person. The last person on Castiel Novak's list.

“It should arrive at this address tomorrow,” she says. “Maybe the day after tomorrow.” Then she drops the box into a cart behind her.

Dean forces a smile. He leaves the post office without his change.

_Tomorrow, those tapes are going to turn someone else's life upside down._

==========  


YESTERDAY  
2 HOURS BEFORE SCHOOL

 

Dean swears under his breath as he pads down the wooden stairs. He wipes the sleep off his eyes, and grumbles that the person ringing the doorbell at six in the morning better be Jesus or else Dean is going to start throwing punches around like confetti.

But turns out it's not the Second Coming. He opens the door to a bearded mailman holding a rectangular box. “May I help you?” Dean says with a little more irritation than he intends.

“Package for…” The mailman trails off as he sneaks a glance at the box for a name. “Mr. Dean Winchester?”

“That’s me.” Dean replies. The mailman hands him the package and Dean smiles his thanks. He flips the box in his hands, and sees DEAN WINCHESTER and his address written in neat block print. “Wait, no return address?”

“No,” the man says as he climbs into his delivery van. “I’m afraid not, son.”

Dean heads inside and sets the package on the kitchen counter. He grabs a pair of scissors and cuts the brown paper bag wrapped around what appears to be a blue shoebox. He lifts the lid only to find a rolled-up tube of bubble-wrap, and inside are seven loose cassette tapes. Every tape was numbered in the upper right-hand corner, possibly with a black marker. Each side has its own number: One and two on the first tape, three and four on the second, five and six on the third, and so on. The last tape has the number thirteen on one side, but nothing on the back.

Who would send Dean a shoebox full of cassette tapes? As his younger brother always tells him, no one else besides Dean listens to cassette tapes anymore. It turns out that boy genius Sam Winchester can be wrong every once in a while.

_I can’t wait to rub these cassette tapes on Sam’s face when he wakes up. ___

He carries the tapes to the garage, where his black ’67 Chevy Impala is parked. He gets into the car, pats his baby’s dash and inserts the first tape into the player. He presses play.

CASSETTE 1: SIDE A

 

**_Hello, boys and girls. Castiel Novak here. Live and in stereo._ **

Dean stiffens. _I don’t believe it._

**_No return engagements. No encore. And this time, absolutely no requests._ **

Dean doubtfully shakes his head.

_This can’t be possible. A week ago, Castiel Novak swallowed a handful of pills. He never woke up._

**_I hope you’re ready, because I’m about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended. And if you’re listening to these tapes, you’re one of the reasons why._ **

_What? No! ___

That can’t be. They haven’t spoken for a month before Castiel died. Dean has no idea how he could have possibly been a reason for Castiel’s suicide.

**_I’m not saying which tape brings you into the story. But fear not, if you received this lovely little box, your name will pop up…I promise. Now, why would a dead boy lie?_ **

**_Hey! That sounds like a joke. Why would a dead boy lie? Answer: because he can’t stand up._ **

Dean huffs a silent laugh but quickly chastises himself. He is laughing at a joke a dead boy made a week ago.

**_Go ahead. Laugh._ **

**_Oh well. I thought it was funny._ **

Maybe this whole thing is just some cruel joke.

**_Now I know some of you are probably wondering why I recorded these tapes. Well, the rules are pretty simple. There are only two, so make sure you remember them. Rule number one: you listen. Number two: you pass it on. Hopefully neither one will be easy—_ **

“Dean?” Sam knocks on the car door. Dean nearly jumps out of his skin. He quickly presses pause and rolls down his windows. “What are you doing up so early? And you’re just sitting there, too, daydreaming.”

“Oh,” Dean scrambles for a plausible answer. “I was just listening to dad’s old tapes.”

Sam’s features soften as he says, “Okay, I’ll leave you to it then. Mom just wants you to know that breakfast is ready.”

“Thanks,” Dean replies, “Tell her I’ll be there in a minute.” He feels bad for lying. He waits until his brother pulls the door shut before placing his finger on the play button. He hovers over the black triangle for a minute; he cannot find it in himself to have the strength to push a single button. Hitting play the first time was easy, he had no idea what he was about to hear.

_But this time, it’s the most frightening things I’ve ever done._

Dean sucks in a breath and presses play.

**_…for you. When you’re all done listening to all thirteen sides—because there are thirteen sides to every story—rewind the tapes, put them back in the box, and pass them on to whoever follows your little tale. And you, lucky number thirteen, can take the tapes straight to hell. Depending on your religion, maybe I’ll see you there._ **

**_In case you’re tempted to break the rules, understand that I did make a copy of these tapes. Those copies will be released in a very public manner if this package doesn’t make it through all of you. I’d say you wouldn’t want that._ **

**_This was not a spur-of-the-moment decision._ **

**_Do not take me for granted…again._ **

**_You are being watched._ **

Dean feels like there is bile rising in his throat. He feels nauseous. He raises his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. No way could Castiel think that.

He checks the wrapper again—no return address. No clue as to who sent him the tapes. No clue as to who might be watching him.

**_I almost forgot. If you’re on my list, you should have received a map. Throughout the tapes, I’ll be mentioning several spots around our lovely city for you to visit. I can’t force you to go—and some of you are too far away to visit anyways—but if you’d like a little more insight, just head for the stars. Or, if you’d like, just throw the maps away, and I’ll never know._ **

A few weeks ago, just days before Castiel took the pills, someone stuck an envelope underneath the windshield wiper of his car. The outside of the envelope said SAVE THIS—YOU’LL NEED IT. Inside was a folded up map of the city, dotted with red stars in different areas around town. He kept the map. He meant to show it around school to ask if anybody else got one too, but over time it was buried beneath his books that he’d forgotten all about it. 

Until now.

He hits the Pause button on the cassette player and puts the lid back on the shoebox, pushing it far away from him. He then climbs out of the Impala, and rushes to his room. He puts on the closest pair of jeans and t-shirt he can find, as well as throwing on his dad’s worn leather jacket. He rummages through his bag for the folder, and feels a wave of uncertainty when he finds it.

Castiel’s map.

Dean grabs his keys and runs to the kitchen, where his mother and his younger brother are engaged in a private conversation. Dean has a sneaking suspicion they are talking about Sam finding him sitting in the Impala listening to their late dad’s music. The conversation stops when he clears his throat.

_Yeah, they were definitely talking about me._

“I don’t think I’m going to school today,” Dean says. “I don’t feel so good. I need to go get some fresh air.” He kisses his mom’s forehead and turns to Sam, “Do you want to take the car to school?”

“No, Dean. I’ll walk. Take the car.”

“Thanks Sammy.”

Dean’s mom looks at him like she understands, but she doesn’t, not really. Because this isn’t about his dad. This is about a boy who, a week ago, killed himself. Dean was one of the reasons why.

He opens the garage door then gets into his car. Dean starts the engine, but not before pressing play. It was just as difficult as the last time.

**_Or maybe I will. I’m not actually sure how this whole dead thing works. Who knows, maybe I’m standing right behind you right now._ **

**_I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair._ **

**_But this story needs to begin, and every story must begin at where else? The beginning._ **

**_Ready, Miss Masters?_ **


	2. CASSETTE 1 (SIDE A)

**_Ready, Miss Masters?_ **

Masters? Dean doesn't remember if there's anyone with Masters as a surname from school. 

**_For those of you who don’t know, Meg Masters was—still is, I think—one of the most popular girls in Pontiac Township High School. She’s adventurous, snarky and funny and I’d had a crush on her since middle school. I didn't do anything about it though. The reason was simple: I was the socially awkward freshman who stared at people too much, and Meg was… Meg._ **

**_That's why it came as such a surprise to me when during English one day, Meg asked me out. She just walked right up to my desk and told me we were going on a date. Maybe it was because of the pressure of being under the spotlight for once, or the joy that she actually knew who I was, that I ended up saying yes._ **

**_Now most of you are probably wondering: Why does this matter?_ **

**_Trust me, it does. Like I said, every story must start somewhere. Be it a castle on top of a hill, a quaint old house in the woods, or... underwater. For me, it's Meg Masters. Because that moment in English really was where everything began._ **

**_When you reach the end of these tapes, Meg, I hope you’ll understand your role in all of this. Your role may seem small now, but it matters. In the end, everything matters._ **

**_I know you didn’t mean to let me down. In fact, most of you listening probably had no idea what you were doing—what you were truly doing. But a small change can have huge consequences. I hope these tapes will make you realize how your actions had a huge consequence on me._ **

_What was I doing, Cas? I honestly have no clue_. Dean grips the steering wheel tighter as he stares at their driveway. He realizes he still hasn't moved, though the car's engine is running. _Where do I come into your stories? Am I second? Third? Or am I number thirteen?_

That night, if it’s the night Dean thinks Castiel was thinking of, was just as strange for Dean as it was for Castiel. Maybe more so, since Dean still has no idea what the hell happened.

**_Take out your maps ladies and gentlemen. I’m going to take you on a trip. Meg, because you are the only person on these tapes who's in Illinois, your map is a little different than everyone else. There's only one star. And if you look at where it is, I'm guessing you already know why I'm taking you there._ **

**_For the rest of you, our first red star can be found at E-5. Take your finger over to E and drop it down to 5. That’s right, exactly like Battleship. If you want to feel like part of this story, put some shoes on and follow the star. When you get there, find a bench and press play. You’ll be right in the thick of it._ **

Dean presses pause on the player and reaches for the map in his glove compartment. He unfolds the map and traces his finger along the grid and recognizes the park Castiel was referring to as the park near their high school. It has a playground, Dean remembers, as Sam used to play there when he was a little kid. He puts his foot on the accelerator and drives.

The park is full of people. There are mothers pushing strollers and kids chasing each other along the path-walk. It amazes Dean how the world seems to be moving along fine even without Castiel. It amazes him even more how these people are completely oblivious to the fact that Dean is sitting in his car listening to the voice of a dead boy.

He parks at a spot overlooking the whole park, and presses play. 

**_Meg, do you remember this park? This was the last stop of our first date. You know at first I thought you were going to drag me to a basement party or something. But I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised when you took me here._ **

Dean lets his mind wander. So far, the first tape seems innocent, a boy talking about his very first date with his long time crush. But from the way the tapes are passing on from one person to the next, Dean can't help but think that the stories must be bad. Really bad. That’s the only reason someone would want to mail a bunch of tapes blaming them in a suicide. Out of fear.

Castiel wants them (those on the list) to hear what he has to say. And they’ll do what he says, passing the tapes on, if only to keep them away from people not on the list. Dean's tape terrifies him to the core.

**_It was... Refreshing. You were charming, witty and sarcastic in all the right places. We went to the movies, where I gathered enough courage to hold your hand. We bought food from some random stall on the street and had an impromptu picnic in the park. We laughed and talked all afternoon. We even exchanged phone numbers. I even thought to myself that if I were to get run over by a car at that moment, I would have died happy._ **

**_We went on two more dates after that--both of which were as good as the first one--and then we went on our fourth date. It was November fourteenth. I remember because that was when, as my brother Gabriel would say, “shit hit the fan”._ **

**_Oh, and hello, Gabriel._ **

_Wait. Hold on. Gabriel is on these tapes too?_ Dean rests his forehead against the cool glass window. He needs to think, needs room to breathe. Why is he listening to this? Why put himself through these tapes? Dean tries to think of a good reason why he shouldn't just pop the tape out of the player and throw the entire box of them in the trash.

_Because it’s Castiel's voice,_ his mind tells him. _A voice you thought you’d never hear again. You can’t throw that away._ He squeezes his eyes tight. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes.

And because of the rules. Castiel said he made a copy of each of these tapes. But what if he didn’t? Maybe if Dean doesn’t pass them on, that’s it. It’s over. Nothing happens. But what if there’s something on these tapes that could hurt him? What if Castiel actually was telling the truth? Then a second set of tapes will be released and everyone will hear what’s on them.

Who’s willing to test his bluff?

**_November fourteenth was a Thursday, which meant you and I didn't have any classes together, which meant I didn't see you at all. But by the time I got home, you’d already called. Twice._ **

**_When I called back, you didn't miss a beat. "Meet me at the park?"_ **

**_I couldn't get to the park fast enough. Meg, you don't know this, but I was planning to kiss you the next time I saw you. I had it all planned out._ **

**_You were already sitting in the little house at the top of the slide by the time I got there. I climbed and sat next to you. I was nervous, but I tried not to show it. We spent the good part of an hour talking about our favorite movies when our eyes met. It felt like something in the air between us shifted. I leaned in, and we kissed. I was worried to say the least. That kiss was my first, but I knew it wasn’t yours. I’ve always known you were more experienced. Too experienced to even think about me._ **

Dean almost chuckled. _Trust me Cas, if you kissed Meg the way you kissed me on the roof, then you being inexperienced never would have crossed her mind._

Dean can't help but think about That Night, and about how he lost sleep replaying the memory of Castiel and the kiss in the nights that followed.

****_It was gentle, unhurried. When we parted, you smiled and said, “A+ for you, angel.”_ ** **

****_Which—to be completely honest—wasn’t really what I imagined you’d say. It doesn't matter. I took it as a compliment._ ** **

****_And that’s it._ ** **

****_Wait, stop. Don’t rewind. You don’t need to go back because you didn’t miss a thing. Let me make myself clear. That…Is… All… That…Happened. But everyone in school didn’t think so, right Meg?_****

A shiver runs down Dean's spine. Castiel sounds so bitter. He's never heard Castiel speak that way.

**_Technically something did happen. We walked over to the swings and I gave Meg a push while we talked. When I walked her home, we kissed again in the very same way._ **

**_Oh, sorry. You thought there was more to this date, didn’t you? You thought you’d hear about how instead of leaving, I invited Meg to my house. You thought you’d hear about how I took her upstairs to my room and we…_   
**

****_What did they say again, Meg? That I pushed you into letting me feel you up even when you kept saying no._ ** **

There is a pause. Dean holds his breath and scoots closer to the edge of his leather seat. He can hear Castiel’s breathing quicken. He briefly wonders if this was what Castiel did when he tried to calm himself down, when he tried to hold his anger in. _Were his eyes shut? Was he close to tears?_ Dean is pulled out if his reverie when Castiel’s voice rumbles through the speakers of the car. 

****_They’re wrong._ ** **

****_I pretended it didn’t bother me. I assumed that they were just rumors made by people who were jealous… Jealous that the 'anti-social nerd' actually got the girl. I neither confirmed nor denied anything. But you, Meg, you basked in all the attention. You stopped answering my texts, stopped talking to me. You didn’t even look at me in the eye anymore. You were suddenly the victim; everyone in school consoled you whereas I was the sexually frustrated boy who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. I would walk down the hallways at school and people would stop talking. They averted their eyes. And when they thought I was far enough not to hear them, they started laughing._ ** **

****_That wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was thinking that I did something wrong. That I somehow managed to overstep your boundaries and it was my fault that you stopped speaking to me._ ** **

****_Imagine the look on my face when the truth eventually got out. That it was you who told everybody I felt you up. That you only invited me out on a date purely out of pity, because you knew how I felt about you and you felt sorry for me. I also heard that you said you were disgusted because I took advantage of your 'kindness'._ ** **

Castiel spits the last word out like it was venom. Dean feels anger pool at the pit of his stomach. He punches the steering wheel, flinching at the blare of his horn. Outside, he hears a baby start to cry, and he turns to see a woman glaring at him but Dean can’t bring himself to care. He grits his teeth, willing himself not to scream profanities at a girl he’s never even met. _It’s too late now,_ Dean thinks. _It won’t make a difference._

****_Betrayal. It's one of the worst feelings._ ** **

****_No one in Pontiac ever learned the truth. Girls in school looked at me like I was a pervert, while guys laughed at me like the idiot I was for believing Meg Masters was actually interested in me. I didn’t try to fix it, because the damage was already done. Looking back on it now, I think that even if I tried to tell my side of the story, I am sure no one would have listened._ ** **

****_Oh, my apologies. ‘Am’… I can’t use that anymore, can I?_ ** **

****_I realized that speaking up about what really happened would have been futile. Everyone knows you can’t disprove a rumor. But not this time. This time, you will listen to my side of the story. The truth. Then you will pass them on. You’ll do it, because if you don’t, everyone beyond these tapes will know what you did._ ** **

****_And looking through my list now, I'm telling you: you really would not want that._ ** **

_What else are on these tapes, Cas? How bad do the stories get as they go along?_

****_As this story draws to a close, I know what some of you are thinking. Really, Castiel? This is where your oh-so-tragic story winds back to? A deceitful teenage girl who had way too much time in her hands? You ended your life because of her?_ ** **

****_Let me make myself clear. This tape isn’t about you, Meg. It’s not even to blame you for what you did to me. It’s about the repercussions your actions had on me. More specifically, how your betrayal affected who I trusted, and how it affected the person I became. It’s about those things you didn’t plan—those things you couldn’t plan._ ** **

****_Meg, your part in my story ends here. You may choose to stop listening now, just send the tapes to the name and address you received alongside this little package and you’re done. Or you can stay. After all Meg, everything began with you. I think it's only appropriate to finish what you started, don't you?_ ** **

****_Now the rest of you, hold on tight. We're pressing the fast-forward button to a year later where my family and I moved to Lawrence, Kansas. There's someone I'm just dying for you to meet._ ** **

Dean listens to the soft hum of the speakers. He waits, but Castiel's voice doesn't return. 

The story is over. 


	3. CASSETTE 1 (SIDE B)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The places in Castiel's map in (and after) this chapter are made up (besides the high school, that's real). I've never been to Kansas, never mind Lawrence, or anywhere beyond the city I'm in. So yes, just used random names here.

Dean sits unmoving as his car is filled with the static and his head is filled with his thoughts--each one louder and more frenzied than the last.

_The next tape is going to be about someone in Lawrence, Kansas. Is it me? Is it my tape already?_ Cas said he was a freshman when the story in the first tape happened. But that was three years ago! If the beginning went as far as three years ago, then Castiel was already in the midst of his downward spiral before Dean had even met him. Why didn't Dean notice?

Dean tries to block the questions ringing in his head but he can't help but dwell on that last question: _Why didn't I notice?_ Dean was always hanging around the blue-eyed boy whenever he could--which basically meant the better part of everyday—and he considered himself as Castiel's friend. 

_More, if Castiel had let me._

Dean only had eyes for Castiel. If anyone was to notice that something was wrong, it should have been Dean. But he didn't.

_That can't be the reason why I'm on the list, though, right? The fact that I didn't notice? Because that would be cruel._

Only one way to find out.

Dean steels himself as he ejects the first tape. He stares at the cassette tape for a moment before he realizes his fingers are shaking. He ignores it, and turns the tape over, B-side out, and slides it back into the player.

**_Welcome back. I appreciate you staying for part two._ **

**_If you’re listening to this, one of two things has just happened. A: You’re Meg, and after hearing your tale you decided to stick around to hear what happens next. Or B: You’re someone else and you’re waiting to see if it’s you. Well..._ **

Dean waits to hear his name. Sweat beads along his hairline. 

**_Charlie Bradbury. It's your turn._ **

Dean pauses and rewinds the tape. He hopes he heard it wrong but there is no mistaking it. Castiel said Charlie Bradbury, loud and clear.

_Charlie? As in redhead, Moondoor fanatic, Charlie?_ He didn't expect her to be on these tapes at all. If Dean remembers correctly, Charlie and Castiel were close friends. Actually there was even a period during sophomore year when they were together. _Like, together together._

**_I'm sure most of you have absolutely no idea why Charlie is here. How could anyone be angry at her?_ **

**_You're probably thinking that too, Charlie. Or not. I have a feeling you know why you're here. And I'm sorry, Charlie. But I have to, because..._ **

Castiel pauses in his speech. Dean leans closer to the player as he strains to hear what Castiel is—was—doing. He turns the volume up. It seems as though Castiel is unwrinkling a piece of paper, Dean can hear the sound of Castiel's palms running over the paper while they flatten and smooth it down.

**_I just glanced over every name—every story—that completes these tapes. And believe it or not, every single event documented here may never have happened had you, Charlie not said to me what you did while we were in your car. It’s that simple._ **

**_Oh, the rest of you don't even know what I'm talking about, do you? Apologies, I was getting ahead of myself for a second there._ **

**_Let's rewind back to my first day of school at Lawrence, shall we?_ **

**_Moving to Lawrence was... both nerve-wracking and relieving. I thought that I had finally left the rumors and gossip behind me...for good. Still, after months of having a spoiled reputation and having people talk about said reputation behind my back, I was terrified. Terrified that somehow, the rumors followed me all the way from Pontiac. That somehow, the rumors will bleed into the walls of Lawrence High as well, just like it did before._ **

**_Maybe that was why I didn't speak to anyone in the first week. I was paranoid, I didn't want to say anything that can somehow, someway, be traced back to Meg._ **

**_Around all of you I could be the old Castiel Novak. No scandals, no bad reputations... A clean slate. I wanted it to stay that way._ **

Dean remembers that. It was first period Physics and he was already dozing off, his head buried in his arms. He remembers hearing Castiel introduce himself in that gravelly voice of his and thinking, _woah give the guy some Strepsils._ He also remembers looking up to see a mess of black hair sticking out at odd angles and blue eyes and Dean was hooked. 

After that Dean tried his best to make small talk whenever he was around Cas, but the other guy maintained his silence. He just stared in utter confusion when Dean made pop culture references and smiled minutely when Dean told a lame joke. When Dean asked about Pontiac, Castiel would mutter an excuse and bolt into the flowing crowd of students, so Dean never broached the subject again.

When Dean finally got one proper conversation out of Cas though, Dean knew he was a goner.

**_I was metaphorically invisible, just how I liked it. But then I met you, Charlie._ **

**_I was cautious at first but I must admit I hoped that we would become friends. You, Charlie, were a breath of fresh air. You filled the awkward silences I created, and you talked to me like we were old friends. It made me feel at ease. You also introduced me to your equally welcoming friends, one of whom has a whole tape all to herself._ **

**_You'll find out who she is soon enough._ **

Dean rubs his forehead as he feels the first sign of a headache. This is all too much. And he's only on the first tape. 

**_As I was saying Charlie, social constructs like popularity didn't bother you. You paid no heed to the rumors that circulated around school. Unlike me, who—despite the distance I kept from everybody—still had an ear out for anything that concerned me. It was disconcerting, really. It seemed that I couldn't fully escape my past, no matter how far I ran._ **

**_I thought that the opposite could be said for you, Charlie. I thought that you had no secrets, no rumors which chased you every corner you turned._ **

**_I was wrong._ **

**_B-8 on your maps. We're going to Chuck's Café and Coffeehouse. Once you get there, order something. You're not going anywhere for a while._ **

Dean releases a sigh of relief. _If I'm going to do this, I'm going to need coffee,_ he thinks.

**_Charlie invited me to hang out with her and I said yes. I thought nothing of it at the time, but I guess I should have known from past experience that meetings like those never turn out well for me._ **

**_You were sat at the far table to the right, which was one of the more private tables. Right then and there, I had an inkling you didn't call just to chat. You looked uncomfortable, even regretful. I asked what was wrong, and I received a string of words that came out in a rush. I remember the conversation going a little like this:_ **

**_Charlie: Itoldmyfriendsyou'remyboyfriend._ **

**_Me: I'm sorry?_ **

**_Charlie: I lied to my LARPing friends and told them you were my boyfriend._ **

**_I remember staring at you for a very long time after that._ **

**_You apologized and explained to me how your LARPing friends had significant others while you did not, and how you were badgered and pestered by your friends to find someone. So, wanting an out, you saw me as the person to provide a way of escape. You thought I was the perfect stranger. I was new to Lawrence, meaning your friends knew nothing about me. You could fabricate every detail and they wouldn't even notice. Also, I was... dreamy. I recall you saying that somewhere in the conversation._ **

**_You asked if I could pretend to be your boyfriend. I said okay. I don't know why I did._ **

**_Actually, that was a lie. I do. It was the fact that it felt nice having someone to talk to other than my older brother._ **

**_And that, ladies and gentlemen, was how I ended up being in a fake relationship with Charlie Bradbury._ **

**_We didn't have to go on fake dates, or eat fake dinner, or fake walk on fake beaches. Charlie and I just took real pictures of us fake smiling and fake looking into each others' eyes, so she could show them to all her friends later that night._ **

**_I remember Charlie texted me and said her friends completely bought the lie. After I read the text I thought that was that. Story over._ **

**_But then I went to school the morning after and found out that everyone has already seen the pictures._ **

**_It turned out it was you who showed them, Charlie. You started bragging._ **

**_You started telling stories of how we got together to your friends in school, who believed every word you said. In these stories, the things we did when we're alone were... provocative. As a result, your friends told their friends who told their friends and it didn't take long for the whispers to reach me. All of the sudden, I was back on the rumor mill again._ **

When Dean first heard that Castiel and Charlie were together, he wasn't surprised. Still, Dean couldn't help but feel jealous.

**_Did you think I would be okay with it? That I wouldn't mind people talking about me behind my back?_ **

**_Well I wasn't. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt betrayed. It was Pontiac all over again. For a moment, I was mad at you because you did exactly what Meg did. You used me as a tool to boost your popularity._ **

**_But it was never about that, was it Charlie? You didn't spread the rumors for popularity. It was for something more. Something heavier. I didn't know it at the time._ **

**_It was rage that made me do what I couldn't back in Pontiac: I confronted you about the rumors right after school. You were clearly surprised, probably because you didn't expect me to be angry at all. You ushered me into your car and said we could talk while you drove me home._ **

**_I asked you why you decided to lie about our relationship to everyone in school. You didn't want to give me your reason, but I kept insisting. Your reply was something I never saw coming._ **

**_Charlie Bradbury told me that she is..._ **

Dean turns up the volume of the walkman. He holds his breath as he waits for Castiel to continue, Charlie is what? 

**_A lesbian._ **

Dean almost chokes on his drink. _Charlie? Really?_ Dean knows that Charlie had always been a gamer, she'd never been a skirt-wearing, high heels strutting girl—and Dean appreciates that about her. _But a lesbian? Really?_ Dean has gone to one or two LARPs with Charlie (not that he'll ever admit that to anybody) and the guys were all over her. Even called her Queen, some of them. They flirted with her like she was the last female on Earth.

Now that you think about it though, Dean is sure he's never seen Charlie flirt back. 

**_Charlie, you were very honest with me during that car ride. You told me about the first time you felt an attraction towards a friend during freshman year, and about the fear and confusion that came soon afterwards._ **

**_Fear... Not because of the realization, but because of your family._**

**_They were strict. You even said that your sister, Anna, had to fight tooth and nail just so she could go on a date with a boy. You thought that if your parents reacted that way towards their daughter wanting to be associated with someone of the opposite sex, then they would 'totally kill you for even thinking about girls. Like kill you dead.'_ **

Dean almost smiles. Charlie's words sound so weird when paired with Castiel's gruff, deadpan voice. 

**_You told me about falling in love with her, and wishing you could tell her. You tried your best to hide your feelings, but it proved to be impossible. People started speculating, and soon enough your friend started avoiding you. You drifted apart, but the rumors stayed. So did the fear._ **

**_You knew that if your parents found out about the rumors relating to your sexuality, they would start asking questions. Because rumors, though they lack the certainty of facts, creates doubt in people's minds. And you didn't know if you could lie to your parents. So you did the next best thing._ **

**_You lied to everyone else._ **

**_The rumors kept circulating, and I let it happen... Without. A. Single. Word._ **

When Dean first heard about the rumors regarding Charlie (which was the year before), he scoffed at them. They were already friends then, so he didn't believe any of it. Though Dean recalls being hyperaware of everything she said and did, searching for a clue that will either validate or disprove the stories. 

Then Dean remembers totally scrapping any doubts he had of Charlie when he learned that she was dating Castiel. 

_So Charlie's plan worked, then._

**_It didn't matter that I felt exactly like I did back in Illinois. It didn't matter that once again, people thought they knew all about me, and my 'sexually active' lifestyle—which at that point was non-existent. What mattered to me was that the rumors about your sexuality were completely eradicated. What mattered to me was that you didn't feel scared anymore. Because I knew what having people talk about you behind your back felt like. Because I knew how much it hurt._ **

**_Because you were my friend._ **

**_So Charlie, please don't think that I did this to myself because of your sexual orientation. This has very little to do with that. You see, despite being raised in a family like mine, I was indifferent to your preference for women. In fact, I was more than alright with being your cover until you were ready to disclose yourself. I was not alright, however, with all the lies you spun._ **

**_Because a lie based on a picture ruined a friendship that I treasured. A lie based on a picture started a reputation that other people believed in and reacted to. And sometimes, a lie based on a picture has a snowball effect. You'll know exactly what I mean in the next tape._ **

**_I realize that the things you've said to me in your car should not have been mine to tell. However, telling that story—your story—was necessary._ **

**_Because that story is the real reason why you are on these tapes, Charlie. Not because of what you are, or because of what you did, but because of what you said during that car ride home. It's just--I think if you chose to drive on and not answer my question, then you wouldn't have set in motion my confusion about my own sexuality. You wouldn't have made me wonder if meeting a boy who possessed the same characteristics I admired in a girl would make me attracted to them. You wouldn't have made me see every male I ever talked to in a different light._ **

_Every male?_ Dean thinks. _That includes me, too, right?_ Dean tries hard not to entertain the slight possibility that Castiel had been attracted to him.

_Seriously not the time, Dean._

**_But you did answer me. And all of the above happened, which turned out to be very, very bad for me indeed._ **

**_I wish I hadn't asked a question at all, Charlie. Because then, we wouldn't be in this mess._ **

**_Ruby, you're up next._ **


	4. CASSETTE 2 (SIDE A)

Dean gazes out the café window. These tapes aren't fair. Charlie didn't know about Meg. Didn't know about all the shit that went down in Cas' old school. Okay, so she used Cas as cover. But didn't Cas say yes? He wasn't flying in there blind; Cas should have known that people were bound to talk about their relationship partly because it's pure gossip... And mostly because it involved the hot new guy and the rumored-to-be-lesbian chick.

When news first broke out about Charlie and Castiel, Dean remembers a few girls in his class bitching about Castiel's updated availability status. Despite the dark-haired boy's lack of words, there were so many girls that were interested in him. Not that Dean could blame them. Anyone with eyes could see that Castiel was good-looking. He was clever too, in the most unassuming way possible.

Plus, the guy was a mystery. Girls totally eat that shit up. He never talked about where he came from, his friends, or his family. In fact, the only thing Castiel ever told Dean was that he has an older brother, Gabriel. 

But he's on these tapes too. Dean can only assume that that relationship wasn't going so crash hot awesome when Castiel was still alive. 

So to recap, Dean knew practically next to nothing about Castiel.

Until now.

Now Dean has these tapes. Tapes that detail Castiel's past, the secrets that pushed him over the edge, the thoughts he had before he died. If Dean was being completely truthful with himself, he isn't sure if he wants to know them.

_But this is Cas,_ his mind tells him. _Don't you let him down twice._

He pops open the Walkman he keeps in the glovebox of his car and pulls out the first tape. In the left pocket of his leather jacket he finds the next tape, the one with a black number three written in the corner. He drops that into the deck and snaps the door shut.

Just as Dean places his finger on the play button, the guy by the cash register catches his eye. The man stares at Dean, and before Dean can stop himself, he stares back. Dean notices that the man has crazy bed hair and a small stature. Dean breaks the eye contact, then realizes that the man is making his way towards him.

"Is that like a thing, now?" He—Chuck, as Dean reads from the guy's name badge—gestures at the cassette tape player. "I'd seen a handful of kids your age coming into the café carrying the same thing you are. What's yours for?"

"Oh," Dean stalls as he rakes his mind for an excuse. "School project. Uh... History. Teacher says uh—he says we gotta live in the past to know about the past. Or something." 

"So he thinks the best way to do that is to listen to old cassette tapes while drinking lattes in a place where everyone has a laptop or a cell phone out?"

"Uh... Yeah. Something about acknowledging the contrast of between old and modern technology." Dean smiles as he lies through his teeth.

"Huh. Right," Chuck doesn't seem to buy it. He turns to walk away, but not before pausing and saying to Dean, "Ask your teacher to assign cheerier tapes next time, will you? This redhead came to stop by here a couple of weeks ago with a cassette player and she bawled her eyes out. I felt so sorry for her."

Dean nods his head yes.

"Well, good luck then."

Closing his eyes, Dean presses play. There is just static, and then he hears Castiel taking a shaky breath. His voice is soft.

**_Step-by-step. That’s how we’ll get through this. One foot in front of the other until we get to the finish line._ **

**_We’re already done with the first tape, so bear with me. From here on in, things get better—or worse—depending on your point of view._ **

**_Hello, Ruby._ **

Ruby. Dean can think of a thousand reasons why she would be on these tapes. The girl is a bitch. Dean thinks back to freshman year when he came close to smacking her because she was all over Sam who was three years younger. _Seriously, who does that?_

**_Are you squirming yet? Are you trying to list everything you've ever done to me, wondering which one I'm going to tell?_**

**_Let me say this, Ruby: there were just so many. I had to choose the one that caused the most impact, the one that caused the most cracks. Which means most of the shit you put me through won't ever see the light of day._ **

**_Lucky you._ **

**_If you think I’m being silly—if you think I’m some petulant little boy who makes a big deal over the petty things, taking everything way too seriously, then go ahead. Throw the tapes away. Sure, I am pressuring you with that second set of tapes, but who cares, right? They're just stories._ **

**_Well Ruby, I can name a whole list of people who would care. With what happens on the rest of the tapes, I can name a list of people who would care very much if these got out._ **

_Am I one of them, Cas? Did I do something so horrible to you that I won't want anyone else but these people to hear what it is?_

**_So for your listening pleasure, here is Ruby's story._ **

**_But first, a little background._ **

**_Ruby and I used to share the same Calculus class. Back then her seat was in front of mine, and she sits beside a friend. I used to sit next to Charlie, however somehow, we started drifting apart. Maybe it was her feeling weird about confessing to me. Maybe it was me having distress written all over my face. Maybe it was us not-so-subtly trying to avoid each other as much as possible._ **

**_Either way, we weren't the same. And it's going to become much, much worse._ **

**_Now if you tried to think of adjectives to describe Ruby, the words 'kind' and 'well-mannered' probably would have never crossed your mind—no offense Ruby, but I am speaking from experience. So when you turned around one day after you gave your friend a little wink, and complimented me on the shirt I was wearing, I had the sudden urge to search for a stain or tear._ **

Dean shakes his head. _Castiel you oblivious bastard._

Ever since Castiel's very first day, Dean could tell Ruby had her eyes on the guy. She would always flirt with him, dropping suggestive innuendos and being the promiscuous woman that she was. Dean was pissed of course, because he thought despite the fact that Ruby is the biggest whore on planet Earth, she still had a bigger chance with Castiel than he did. 

But judging from how blind Castiel was to her advances, it's pretty obvious that Castiel didn't pay any attention to Ruby. Dean feels a slight satisfaction at that.

**_You said, "I'm totally lost on this topic right now. Can we meet up so you can help me maybe?"_ **

**_You told me to come to your house. I reluctantly agreed. I didn't want to be the jerk who wouldn't help a classmate out._ **

_You stupid son of a—it's obvious that that was just a ploy to get you to come over, Cas!_ Dean wants to smack his head on the desk.

**_That afternoon, I arrived at your house with the intention of teaching you as quickly as I could and then going home immediately afterwards, which turned out to be the opposite of what you had in mind. After every sentence I said, you either had a question or an observation that steered the conversation away from Calculus._ **

**_You asked about Charlie, saying you heard about our 'trouble in Paradise'. This led me to question the amount of free time people had on their hands if they found my relationship with Charlie to be entertaining in the slightest. I confirmed your allegation, which led you to say, "That's too bad."_ **

**_You shuffled until you were sitting right next to me and got into my personal space. You leaned in close to my ear and you whispered things that will not be relayed in these tapes as they're irrelevant to the story. I didn't care at all about a thing you said until this came out of your mouth:_ **

**_"You’ll be pleased to know that I know a certain someone who has more to offer you than that Moondoor geek."_ **

**_That remark bothered me though I didn't say anything. I should also point out to the listeners that by this point your hands were everywhere. I felt uncomfortable._**

**_Then you said, "Do you know about the rumors? That she's into chicks? I heard from this girl that she saw Charlie staring at her chest and let's be honest, that's a bit revolting. Now every time I walk past her, I’m gonna start worrying if she’s checking out my ass." You gingerly took my hand and placed it under your shirt. I felt disgusted. I wanted to leave._ **

**_I tried to tug my hand back. I said, “Charlie isn't like that. Please get away from me.”_ **

Dean balls his hands into fists. He is definitely going to smack Ruby's face. No one—and Dean means _no one_ —gets to insult Charlie without getting a beating from him.

**_And you so boldly replied,“Why? Am I making you uneasy? Or hot? Or both?”_ **

**_Before I could say that it was neither, that actually you made me sick, your boyfriend Luce barreled in—how he knew you were home, I don't know. All I know is he saw my hand on your bare waist and needless to say he was unhappy with that. He started shouting, which startled you. You yanked my hand away, and I could tell you were searching for a good explanation as to why you had some other guy's hand shoved up your shirt. You looked at me and that’s when I saw the light bulb go off inside your head. I don’t know if you initially intended to scratch me or slap me—frankly I think it’s a bit of both. Either way, I saw it coming. I tried to pull my head back to dodge your hand but I guess I wasn’t fast enough because your nail cut my cheek. Obvious to say, it hurt. A lot._ **

**_Then you screamed: “Pervert!”_ **

**_Like I said. I saw that coming. But I didn't have enough time to react._**

_Alright,_ Dean thinks. _That bitch is going to get it._

**_And guess what? That’s not even where this story ends._ **

**_While I tried to wipe the blood off of my cheek, you said this: “You know at first you got me believing you, but after this? You just proved to me that what my cousin said was true.”_ **

**_“What are you talking about?” I said._ **

**_You smiled. And at that moment, I swear I was looking at the devil in the eye._ **

**_“I have a cousin in Pontiac High.” And that was all I needed to hear, really. I already knew what'll come next_ **

_No. No, please, no,_ Dean thinks.

**_**_You said your cousin told you about me and a girl named…"what was it? Oh, Meg Masters. I heard you tried to get it on but she rejected you. Then I heard you almost forced her, but she got away.”_**_ **

If Dean isn't so pissed right now, he would have applauded Castiel's attempt at imitating Ruby's condescending tone

****_I wasn’t even surprised. Rumors have a way of mutating into something darker, something bigger if left unattended. I think it’s safe to say Meg had been busy back home._ ** **

****_I remember Ruby holding her hand to her heart in a mock-gesture. It did nothing but annoy me as she said, “I didn’t even want to believe it. You seem like a good guy. A bit on the weird side, I’ll grant you that. But I never would have pegged you as a pervert. Hey! Maybe that’s why you're dating Charlie, because if the popular girl back in Illinois said no, then maybe the Moondoor loser will say yes." I remember Ruby laughing._ ** **

****_I couldn’t say anything. What could I have possibly said to make Luce or Ruby believe me? To Luce, I was the guy who was after his girlfriend. To Ruby, I was the pervert her cousin warned her about._ ** **

****_Then I heard Luce mutter, “Beware the quiet ones. They’re just a bundle of sexual assault waiting to unfold.” He threatened me after that. Said if I ever go near you again he’ll do more than just slap me._ ** **

****_So I replied with this little gem: "Oh don’t bother. I wouldn’t go near a slut like her with a ten-foot pole."_ ** **

Dean lets out a burst of laughter which he quickly suppresses. He can't believe Castiel said that.

****_Which was probably not the best way to have handled that but what can I say? My tongue slipped._ ** **

****_Now this is where it gets a bit hazy, so I’m going to try and recount the event as accurate as possible. Lucifer lunged at me, all fists and curses, and idiot that I am, I didn’t move. He threw a punch, which was enough to send me falling. He kicked me in the stomach—twice—and swore that if I ever call you a slut again, he’ll kill me. Also, that he and all of his friends are "going to make sure that everyone in Lawrence High will know what I did back in Pontiac."_ ** **

****_And true to their word, by the next day everyone knew about Meg Masters._ ** **

Dean remembers that day. To find out that a guy who seemed so harmless and ordinary did something like that, it was a big deal. Dean would have believed the rumors like everybody else if he hadn't seen Castiel's pained expression as he walked along the halls. Dean is a great judge of character, if he does say so himself, and his gut told him that Castiel wouldn't do something immoral

His instincts were right.

****_Nobody looked me in the eye. The friends I thought I had avoided me. Even you, Charlie. When I tried to explain the truth, you accused me of taking advantage of your situation. Strike one. I was prepared to tell you everything, Charlie. About Meg. About Ruby. About me. But you didn't want to listen. Instead, you said that if we kept the fiction of our relationship up, somewhere down the road, I would have found a way to… what, Charlie? You were walking away as you said it that I didn’t get to hear the end of your sentence. Doesn't matter, I knew what you meant._ ** **

****_Ruby, you needed a feasible lie to tell your boyfriend. And since you already had a perverted image of me after Meg's little number, I was the perfect choice, wasn’t I? I mean, you've got the whole of Pontiac to back your story up._ ** **

****_See Charlie? The snowball keeps rolling. Now let me tell you where it picks up speed._ ** **

****_Kevin Tran, it's time to take the stage._ ** **


	5. CASSETTE 2 (SIDE B)

Dean lets the tape whirr into silence. And within that silence he realizes how he's been staring at nothing throughout Ruby's tape. He wonders what the people around him are thinking of him now, if they were watching him. He wonders if, like Chuck, they're trying to figure out why this poor kid is listening to outdated audiotapes. Dean wonders if they're trying to understand why he has a pained look on his face.

Dean downs his coffee and slips off the headphones as he stands to leave. He wraps the cord around the Walkman and clutches it in his hands. Dean fights the urge to make a beeline to the bathroom and vomit whatever crap he managed to eat since that morning from his stomach. 

_It's too much. It's only the second tape and it's all too damn much._

Dean nods at Chuck as he passes the counter, but doesn't stay long enough to see Chuck's wave goodbye. He needs to get going. He needs to be in the Impala, where he feels less exposed. When Dean reaches the parking lot he notices a tall, shaggy haired boy leaning against the driver side door of his baby. Dean walks faster. _What the...?_

"Sam?"

His brother turns and gives Dean a small, hesitant smile. "Hey Dean. I figured you'd be here." 

Dean doesn't return the smile, but instead narrows his eyes at Sam. "What—aren't you supposed to be in school?"

Sam hitches his backpack higher on his shoulder and shrugs, saying, "I called in sick."

"Does Mom know?"

"No."

"Dad is going to _murder_ you."

"That's precisely why you won't tell him." 

Dean shakes his head in mock frustration. He nearly drops the subject of Sam playing hooky however he couldn't help but ask, "But—how did you know I was going to be here?"

Sam's eyes cast down at the Walkman in Dean's hand. Feeling self-conscious Dean tries to shove the Walkman into his pocket, and Sam's mouth turns down at the corners as he watches Dean do so. Dean feels sick all of the sudden. "Long story short: you weren't at the park so this is the only place you could be." Sam gestures at the tapes and says, "I didn't think you would get through more than two tapes in less than two hours." Dean's stomach drops.

"Wh—what? How in the hell do you know about—"

"I'll explain everything in the car. Let's go."

Dean crosses his arms. "Not until you tell me how—"

"Get in the car, Dean. Now."

"Stop freaking cutting me off asshat," Dean mutters as reluctantly gets into the passenger's seat. He doesn't hand the car keys over though, he waits for Sam to explain. 

"No, Dean. Keys and we'll talk." 

And so Dean gives the keys. Sam turns the key in the ignition, and Dean feels a fleeting moment of terror. _I don't trust this kid with my baby._ Sam drives them around town until Dean swears he's seen every nook and cranny of Lawrence. Twice. His patience snaps.

"Sam? Some time today please."

Sam huffs and Dean can almost hear him roll his eyes. "I'm getting there, Dean. It's just a bit hard to explain. I don't know where to start."

"I don't care! You better start talking now or I swear I'm going to stop this friggin' car and kick the answers out your ass."

"Dean, you—"

"Wait, are you on these tapes too? Shit. That's how you knew where to find me, wasn't it?" _He knows what I did._

"No, I didn't receive anything." Sam turns his gaze on Dean, eyes earnest. He grimaces as he adds, "Well, I did. But not the tapes you're holding, exactly."

"What are you...?" Then the realization dawns on Dean. "The second set. Castiel sent them to you."

Sam nods and focuses back on the road.

"How? You and Cas weren't exactly best friends. Plus, he knew we were brothers right?" Dean snorts. "Why would Cas give these tapes to the brother of the guy responsible for his death?"

Sam seems to ponder this for a second. At last he says, "Remember that literature camp I went to last year?" Dean nods. He vaguely remembers his brother fangirling about some guys named Whitman and Hemingway and tuning out because it sounded unbelievably pansy—even for Sam. "Castiel went to the same one. I recognized him as one of your friends, we talked, found out we had a lot in common, and we became friends. I guess he trusted me maybe."

Dean fishes out the Walkman in his pocket and waves it in front of Sam. "These tapes are meant to blackmail thirteen people. Including me. They're not just something you give to someone you trust _'maybe'_." 

"Yeah. I'm aware of that Dean. That's why I've been following people around, making sure the blackmail is keeping them in line. You know, make sure they're scared enough so they'll send the tapes to the next person."

"Son of a bitch," Dean says through gritted teeth. "The past two weeks where you've been gone almost every afternoon. That's what you've been doing? Stalking people because it's a dead guy's wish?"

Sam punches the steering wheel and slams the brakes. "He's not just some 'dead guy'! Jesus, Dean, you of all people should know better than to say that." Then almost as an after-thought he adds, "And just so we're clear, me talking to you goes against what Castiel would have wanted. He didn't want any of you to know I'm the one who has the second set."

"Why are you here?"

Sam takes a deep breath, "Because 'dead guy's' wishes or not, I can't let you listen through these alone."

Dean swallows the sudden lump that appeared in his throat. "Does it really get that bad?"

Sam just stares at Dean. He notices that there was something in Sam's eyes. Something like pity. That was answer enough.

"I don't even know what I did, Sam." His voice cracks at the end of the sentence. "I don't know why I'm here." 

"You will, Dean. You'll understand why." His little brother smiles reassuringly at him.

"So you're going to be a damn cryptic until I do?"

Sam shrugs and smiles. "There's nothing else I can do, Dean. I'm here for support, not answers. I can't give them to you. Not in the way you want."

"What do I now?"

"Number one, you're going shut up and let me drive. Number two, you're going to listen."

Dean does what Sam says and he flips the tape. Dean's finger shakes on the button.

For the fourth time in the past two hours, Dean presses play. 

**_The next two stories won't be easy._ **

Castiel feels so close, like he's just sitting right next to Dean, that it makes Dean shiver. 

**_This is the part where I realize that my actions—or lack thereof—also play a role that is every bit as important as yours into getting me to where I am now. This is the part where I realize I am also at fault here, just as much as each and everyone of you are._ **

**_Our little story takes place during the Winter Formal._**

**_As always, I know what all of you are thinking. What were you doing there Castiel? Why attend an event where everybody hated you?_ **

**_Well it turned out there was someone who didn't. Someone who thought I wasn't all bad like you thought I was._ **

Dean wants to thrash around, scream and shout at the tapes, _I never thought that! Not once! If only you had just talked to me, Cas. You would have known._

But it's no use. Dean knows the tapes are only echoes of Castiel. Even if it feels like Castiel is nearby, even if Castiel's voice sound so alive, Dean knows the guy is long gone. 

**_That someone was Anna._ **

**_Now, you all know Anna. She is Charlie Bradbury's step-sister. Just a year younger, she's one of the people Charlie introduced me to when I didn't know anybody in Lawrence. She's one of the people I actually got along with._ **

**_She invited me to the Winter Formal, urging me not to—and I quote—"Mope around and feel sorry for myself. I should show everyone that I am having the time of life no matter what they say." Truthfully, I didn't want to parade myself in front of people. I'd rather stay as far away from the spotlight as possible. But in the words of a good friend, 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.' Anna asked me to come with her as she still thought of me as a friend. For that I am grateful._ **

**_I picked her up and we went to the formal together. The moment we walked in, weird and dirty looks were sent our way. Weird looks for Anna, dirty looks for me. And though I couldn't hear it, I knew that some of the people already there were whispering about how I was working my way through both sisters fast. Disgusting._ **

Dean feels a pang of jealousy. _That should have been me._ He doesn't quite remember the name of the girl he took to the dance. She was this petite, bottle-black haired girl with big blue eyes. Dean thought that if he couldn't be with the real thing, he might as well get someone that looks sort of like him and pretend. 

It didn't work.

**_Not half an hour into the dance, I couldn't take it anymore. Too many people were staring. Too many people glowered every time they notice me looking. I felt so vulnerable. I left Anna while she socialized with the rest of her friends. I walked outside for a breath of fresh air and soon enough, the walk turned into a lazy stroll. I didn't want to go back yet. I wanted to savor the solitude while it lasted._ **

**_But then I reached the football field and that's when I saw you, Kevin, and three guys that—for all intents and purposes—shall remain nameless. You didn't notice me though, but then again it was half past nine during late February, so it was absolutely dark out, except for the light coming from the bulbs shining over the football field._ **

**_I planned to walk back as quietly as I could because I didn't want to interrupt whatever the four of you were talking about. It appeared as though you were in the middle of an argument, and I really didn't want to interfere with that. I should say I've never had a friendly relationship with the guys you were talking to, if their name-calling and their accidentally-on-purpose elbowing in the hallways were anything to go by._ **

Dean knows who Castiel was talking about now. He has seen their people-shoving stunt before. It always makes Dean want to grab them by the shirts and push _them_ —give them a taste of their own medicine.

Instead, every time, Dean pretends not to notice. What could he do, anyway?

**_The shouting stopped me from going anywhere, though._ **

**_I couldn't understand what they were saying. Their voices were slurred, obviously intoxicated. One was screaming at you so loud I was surprised no one heard. He repeatedly jabbed his finger into your chest, and you flinched every time he did so. You kept asking them to calm down. I was shocked; I was at a loss at what to do. I wanted you to walk away, to leave before you get physically hurt._**

 ** _But Kevin, you seemed to have had other ideas because you pushed the one closest to you—hard. He retaliated, of course. A fist pounded your jaw._**

Dean grips the dashboard of the Impala. He shuts his eyes, willing himself to _breathe, Dean, breathe._ Anger pools at the pit of his stomach.

**_After two more punches, I turned away but I stayed. I don't know why but I did. I stayed until they stopped. Until they walked far enough away that I couldn't hear them laughing anymore._ **

**_Then I ran._ **

**_I ran and I didn't stop until I got home. My clothes were torn and covered in snow and dirt and I hated it and I hated myself more than I ever did before._ **

**_Anna called and left messages. I didn't reply to any of them._ **

**_I went to school the next day and in lieu of first period, we had an assembly. The Principal said Kevin Tran was found behind the bleachers, beaten up and unconscious. He was immediately taken to the hospital to be treated. Broken ribs. Serious offense. Any witnesses should come to the Principal's office to report._ **

_So that's what happened,_ Dean thinks. He was surprised when they had that assembly. He didn't understand why someone would do that to the kid. Now he knows. The idiots who beat Kevin up did it because they thought they could. They were drunk off of their asses and they were looking for a fight.

**_By the end of the day nobody spoke up or confessed to seeing anything, which at first, lead me to believe that I was the only one at the scene when it happened. But I came to the conclusion that even if there were others near the football field that night, they pretended they weren't because they're just as scared as I was._ **

**_And there it is, ladies and gentleman. The reason why. The reason why I left Kevin there, why I didn't ask for help, and why I didn't say anything. I was too scared. I was scared of what those guys will do to me if they find out that I saw what happened. I was scared that I will end up like Kevin if I told a soul._ **

**_I'm sorry, Kevin._ **

**_I hated myself for being a coward. I hated waking up every morning after that thinking you wouldn't be in the hospital if only I stepped in that night. I could’ve asked for help, but I didn’t. And there was no excuse for me not doing so. As much as I hated them for hurting you, I hated myself even more for not stopping them._ **

_It's not your fault, Cas. They would have hurt you too if you tried to stop them._

**_Do you want to know why I didn't name the perpetrators? Why I didn't send the tapes to them, but to Kevin? Shouldn't what they did make them one of the thirteen reasons and not Kevin?_ **

**_Yes. Absolutely, yes. What they did, it's inhumane. But I didn't do this to myself because of how cruel those guys were—both to me, and to Kevin. This tape isn't about me trying to somehow avenge Kevin. I think it's a bit too late for that._**

**_No, this tape is about Kevin and how I could have done something to save him. This tape is about the things I could have changed, the things I could have done differently but was too afraid to._ **

**_And for that, I'm sorry._ **

**_Stick around Kevin, you'll never believe where your name will pop up next._ **

Dean waits for Castiel's voice to return but it doesn't. Instead there is just silence. Dean hits the dashboard of the Impala and Sam jumps. He hits it again and again, all the while sputtering a mess of _'that wasn't his fault Sam'_ and _'I'm going to kill that son of a bitch Luce'_ and _'Kevin didn't deserve it'_ and _'I miss Cas god I miss him so damn much'_. 

Sam just sits and listens. He sits as Dean lets his anger and frustration and regret out. When Dean stops, he waits for Dean to look at him as a silent confirmation to the silent question of _are you feeling somewhat okay now?_ And when his older brother finally _does_ look at him and nods, he drives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos :) They make me really really happy.


	6. CASSETTE 3 (SIDE A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit similar to the one in the novel. I thought that the chapter was well-written that I wanted to include it here. It just didn't feel right not doing so. 
> 
> (No copyright infringement intended.)
> 
> Enjoy :)

"I'm going to break Lucifer's face." Dean says, the conviction in his voice evident.

"Hey I'm all for it," Sam replies. "The guy's gotten away with more than he should have but..." Sam fidgets and his eyes dart to Dean then to the road and then back again. He clears his throat and shifts in his seat and Dean recognizes this as the _Sam-is-going-to-tell-me something-I-don't-like-sequence._

"But what, Sam?"

"What's the point?"

"What do you mean what's the point?" Dean twists his body to face Sam as he lifts the Walkman in the air. " _This_ is the point. You heard Ruby's tape, didn't you? You heard what Lucifer did to Cas?" Sam nods. "And now this tape. The one with Kevin. It doesn't friggin' matter that I didn't get any names 'cause I know it was that dick Luce and his dick friends who did that to Kevin." 

Sam stares at him now, forgetting the road for a minute. "There's more to this than you let on. You're getting riled up because of something else." He studies Dean's face, as if that will confirm whatever it is that Sam's thinking about. "That's it. You're angry because you were so close when both of these happened. You were in the same class with Ruby and Castiel, weren't you? And I remember you only went to the Winter Formal because you heard Cas was going." 

Dean's eyes widen. Sam chuckles and remarks, "I may be younger but it doesn't mean I'm not smarter." 

_The little bitch,_ Dean thinks.

"Anyway I think you're angry 'cause you think you could have done something. You think maybe you could have stopped Ruby from asking Cas to tutor her, or maybe you could have stopped Lucifer and his friends. You're thinking if only you were keeping a closer eye on him, none of this would have happened and now you're blaming yourself because he's—" 

"No," Dean interjects. He balls his hands into fists and presses his mouth into a thin line. "That's not what this is about." _But it is._ "This is about taking someone who thinks he can do anything he wants down a few notches." _This is about me trying make it up to Cas._

Sam sighs, opens his mouth to say something, but Dean cuts him off. "Let's not talk about it, Sam. Let's just not talk." Dean plucks the next tape from his pocket and puts it into the Walkman. Dean settles the earphones into his ears and he presses play.

 _This is about me trying to make it up to Cas,_ Dean repeats.

**_Let's fast forward to the first month of Junior year. Nothing much had changed in the past six months, but if there was anything worth noting, it was that Anna still spoke to me though I left her alone at the Winter Formal._ **

**_Now I warn you—this tape will be longer than the others. Have a five-minute break, you deserve it. Go to the bathroom, get a drink. I'll be here. It's not like I have better places to be._ **

There's a pause. Dean can hear Castiel's steady breathing.

**_Done? Good. Settle in. You'll be here for awhile. Because this is where things take a turn for the worse. This is where everything starts falling apart—one right after the other._ **

Dean shakes his head. How things be worse than what happened in the tape before?

**_You're probably wondering where 'this' is. Well, boys and girls, I'm referring to THE party. Or shall I say, the biggest party of the year. It was going to be held at a senior's house, and everyone was invited. Including me._ **

That was Michael's party. It's the most awesome party Dean's ever been to and it was all because of Cas.

**_I wasn’t even supposed to be at that party. I was invited, yes, but I wasn’t supposed to be there. My brother Gabriel had just returned home—out of the blue—from taking a year long sabbatical in India. He left right after we moved to Lawrence, since he'd finished high school and decided he just didn't want to be in college yet. So now that he's back, I was meant to spend time with him. He uttered something about, "quality brother bonding time". For Gabriel, quality time meant that I had to sit back and be exposed to the things he loved. Quality time consists of me having to endure hours and hours of a thing called Casa Erotica and being forced to consume food with high sugar content. I didn't want that._ **

**_So I said yes when Anna asked if I was going to go to the party. As much I didn't want to go, I'd much rather preferred to be around drunk people than watch porn with my brother the whole night._ **

Dean feels somewhat offended. _There's nothing wrong with Casa Erotica._

**_I lied to Gabriel. I faked a science project with Anna, informing Gabriel that I had to finish it, and that it may take the whole night. I told him not to wait for me. That night, I packed my bag with books I didn't need and promised to do well on a project that didn't exist. I felt horrible, but really, that didn't stop me. I walked to Anna's house and left my bag there. We then drove to the party in her car._ **

**_For those of you who don’t know which party I’m talking about, G-3 on your maps. A big, fat, star completely filled in. Go there. Three-Five-Two Burswood._ **

**_Ahhh... Now you know, don't you? Some of you know exactly where you fit in the story. But you'll have to wait until it's your tape to hear what I’m going to tell. To hear how much I tell._**

**_By the time Anna and I got there, the party was well underway. A very drunk, very lively crowd lingered by the front door of the house, greeting everyone with a raised cup of alcohol. They tried to say my name but their slurs made it sound like they were saying 'Cazsh-tiul', so everyone else just laughed. I found it funny myself._ **

Dean likes the fun drunks. They make every party ten times better. He's even friends with one of them: a guy called Ash. Dude may look like a Lynyrd Skynyrd Roadie, but Dean thinks Ash is smarter than all the students in their year combined. 

**_Somewhere between the walk from the living room to the kitchen, Anna told me we should split up. She said there were a few people she needed to see and that we should meet up later. Do you want to know the first thing that popped into my head after she said that?_ **

**_Wow. That sure didn't take long. I'm not even surprised._ **

**_I considered going home, however I remembered that I commuted to the party by Anna's car. So I squeezed and pushed my way back through a mass of gyrating bodies trying to find a place where I could sit for the rest of the night._ **

**_I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turn around._ **

Dean feels nervous. _Could this be it?_

**_He was a person I used to talk to, back when I was a freshman. He smiled at me. He told me the party was getting boring, and that he'd been looking for someone to come hang out with him._ **

Dean knows. He knows who this person is. 

**_He dragged me upstairs, and opened the first door on the left. He took me to a bedroom which belonged to the host's sister, I think. It was medium-sized and feminine, with floral curtains and butterflies stuck to the walls. He chuckled as we both glanced around the room. I remember him saying, "This looks exactly like my brother's room. Just kidding."_ **

_That person was me. This,_ Dean thinks, _this is my tape._ He looks over to Sam, who is diligently keeping his eyes on the road. Dean breaks the silence and says, "That guy that took him upstairs. It was me."

"I know." _Well shit. Of course he does._

"Is this mine?"

"Just listen, Dean. He'll tell you."

**_Right now you're thinking: we want a name, Castiel! I'm sorry. I can't tell you. Not yet. Don't worry though, this someone will come later in the tapes. This is his introduction._ **

Dean releases the breath he's holding. 

**_In this tape he's completely harmless. Once we were sat on the floor, he apologized about hauling me to a room without my consent. He said the party was getting too crazy and he felt like taking a break. He saw that I looked out of place, so—thinking that since he didn't want to be there, and I looked like I didn't want to be there—he decided to multiply our two negatives to make a positive, saying that we might enjoy the party in each other's company. I must inform you that that was a direct quote from him._**

Dean smacks his forehead with his palm. He could almost hear the laughter in Castiel's voice. Dean sees Sam's shoulder shaking, and Dean realizes that his brother is laughing at him too. Dean knows that Sam is thinking the same thing: That was probably one of the stupidest things Dean's ever said in his life. He doesn't even think that it made sense.

In his defense, Dean panicked and blurted that out. He'd been wanting to talk to Cas for so long, because after Cas started dating Charlie they just never found the time to speak to each other again. 

When Dean saw Castiel dodging flailing hands and spilt drinks, Dean just knew he had to take the chance or it may never arise again. But still. _That was so embarrassing._

**_Truth be told he made the party tolerable. It's been a while since we've spoken, and I've forgotten how refreshing it was to just listen to him. He told me stories about his family and his interests, however I couldn't find it in myself to tell him stories about mine. So instead I asked him questions and I noticed that the more he told me about himself, the more I relaxed into the conversation. He seemed to have found it amusing every time I didn't understand a film or music reference, and so he vowed to lend me his favorite cassette tapes the next time he saw me. It felt nice to be around someone who didn't think I had some ulterior motive behind everything I did._ **

Dean smiles because he kept his promise. He gave the tapes to Cas the very next day. It was good too, since Cas looked down in the dumps standing alone by his locker. The moment Dean handed Cas a shoebox full of the cassette tapes of his favorite band, Castiel beamed at him like he was a life-saver. Wait...

_Shit._

The cassette tapes. Castiel got the idea from him. Dean needed to find someplace to put his Led Zeppelin cassette tapes in. So he put them in a goddamn shoebox.

**_We talked for what seemed like hours. I thought, at that moment, going to the party was worth it. Alas, all good things must come to an end. He had to go. He stood up to leave, but not without proposing to continue our conversation some other time. I agreed, of course._ **

Dean had wanted to stay. And if it wasn't for his mom needing him at home, he would have. He would have stayed and talked with Castiel until the sun came up.

**_After he left, I stayed in the bedroom. I ended up lying down staring up at the ceiling, and I felt the happiest I've ever been in a long while. I should also tell you that lying down like that, I was hidden by the bed and the dark. No one would have seen me on their way in._ **

**_So when Number Five and her lovely friend entered, they didn't see me. And I didn't actually see them, though I did hear Number Five trying to keep her friend from dropping face first to the floor. Number Five, your friend was stumbling, and she flitting in and out consciousness. You carefully put her on the bed, and she rolls off...twice... But you lifted her back on. You tried to get a reaction out of her. "Are you okay? Do you want me to take you to the bathroom? Are you gonna puke?” This girl wasn’t totally passed out. She grunted and groaned a bit._ **

**_You tucked her in and said you'd check on her in a bit. You walked to the door, and I thought it would be the perfect time for my getaway. End of story._ **

**_But it's not, is it? Or else this story wouldn't have made it into the tapes. I'm sorry if I got your hopes up._ **

**_Just as you had closed the door I heard a male voice call your name. I saw your shoes—and the shoes of the guy—were still visible in the light coming under the door. I sat up, and the door opened and closed then I heard you say, "No, let her rest."_**

**_I panicked. I took advantage of that moment when the door was closed to crawl into a closet I saw when I came in. In there, I waited, heart pounding._ **

**_I heard the door open again, and it appeared as though you and the guy were both in the room now. He was convincing you to leave them in that room. You said no, though I could tell you were close to giving in._ **

_Who are these people?_ Dean doesn't have a clue.

**_At this point you might be shouting, Castiel! How many times must you keep names from us? Don't forget to tell us their names!_ **

**_I won’t forget. If there’s one thing I’ve still got, it’s my memory. Which is too bad. Maybe if I forgot things once in a while, we wouldn't be in this predicament._ **

**_You’ll have to wait for names on this one. Because before I say her name out loud, this girl needs to stew a bit...to remember everything that happened in that room._ **

**_And she remembers. I know she does. I see it in her face every single day she looks at me._ **

**_Number Five, I know she wasn't your best friend. I don't think you've ever talked to her outside of school. But is that your best excuse for what happened next? Or is that your only excuse?_ **

**_Either way, there is no excuse._ **

**_You insisted that she won't move, you tried to make a joke out of it when you said, "Trust me. She'll just lay there."_ **

**_Now, what was his response? What was his reasoning for you to walk away from that room? Do you remember? Because I do._ **

**_Curfew. He had a midnight curfew and he had to leave in a few minutes. A few minutes, that’s all he needed. So just relax and step aside._ **

**_And that’s all it took for you to let him open the door._ **

**_Pathetic. The both of you._ **

Dean freezes. _God, no. Please no._

**_I couldn’t believe it. And the guy couldn’t believe it either, because when he walked further into the room, he didn’t rush right in. He waited for you to protest. You didn't._ **

**_You said nothing. In that moment, I was speechless. I pressed my forehead against my knees. I tried to breathe, I tried to stand but I couldn't. I felt sick._**

Dean feels the same way. He wishes that nothing will happen. That the worse won't come to worst. But he knows better,

 ** _You must have known what would happen. You must have known what he wanted to do._**

**_I shut my eyes tight. I covered my ears with both hands. With the bass thumping, no one in that house heard him walking across the room. Walking. Getting on the bed. The bedsprings screaming under his weight. No one heard a thing... But me._ **

**_You weren't there, Number Five, but let me tell you. Your friend woke up. I don't know what he was doing, but I did hear her groan._ **

**_“Just relax," he said._ **

"Stop the car, Sam."

"What?"

"Just do it. Please."

Sam quickly pulls over, but he lets the engine run. Dean pauses the tape and flings the doors of the Impala with a little more force than he intended. He stumbles to a nearby gutter and hangs his head over it. He throws up. His body shakes. Dean realizes that he is crying, too. Next thing he knows, Sam is rubbing circles on his back.

"I don't want to listen anymore, Sam. I don't want to," Dean says between retches. He can't breathe, and tears are blurring his vision of his brother.

"Finish them Dean, please." Sam looks at him pleadingly. Dean doesn't want to, but he trudges back to the car and grabs the Walkman. He presses play. _I just want to get this over with._

**_Blood pounded in my ears. I bit my arm, I pulled at my hair with my fists. There, crumpled on the floor, I cried until nothing came out. I wanted to scream. So I buried my face into a pile of clothes and I did. And with the bass pumping throughout the house, no one heard me. My throat burned, it felt raw._ **

**_In the end, it was the fact that I could have stopped it that killed me. If I could have talked. If I could have seen. If I could have thought about anything, I would have opened those doors and stopped it._ **

**_But I didn’t. And it doesn’t matter what my excuse was. I have no excuse. I could have stopped it—end of story._ **

**_From the beginning, I never planned on telling you the drunk girl's name. She didn't deserve what happened to her, and she doesn't deserve you knowing who she is. I won't involve her in this. As for the guy, to be completely honest with you, I don't know who he is. I am probably able to recognize him by his voice, but I don't know if I want to._ **

**_But Jessica Moore knows, don't you Jessica?_ **

Jessica? He looks to Sam, and his brother seems to understand the disbelief in Dean's face.

"Yeah, I couldn't believe it either, Dean," Sam's mouth turns down at the corners. 

**_I don't know how long I was buried in that closet. I've lost count of how many songs have played since he started. Eventually, light from the hallway seeped into the room, into the closet, and I heard his footsteps as he walked away. It was over._ **

**_So what happened next? I ran out of the room and straight down the hall. And that’s where I saw you, Jessica. Sitting in a room all by yourself. On the edge of a bed, with the lights turned off, staring at nothing. I stood in the hallway, frozen, staring at you._ **

**_Jessica Moore. You are a very pretty girl. And you’re also very nice. Everyone says so. Yes, Jessica, you’re sweet to everyone you meet in the halls. You’re just so nice, so caring, so considerate to everyone, am I right?_ **

**_You turned my way and our eyes met. The color in your face was gone. Your expression...blank. And your eyes looked exhausted._ **

**_Or was it pain I saw there?_ **

**_Go on, Jessica. Deny it. Deny that I was ever in that room. Deny that I know what you did. Or not what you did, but what you didn’t do. What you allowed to happen. Because either of us could have stopped him. But neither of us did._ **

**_So what is your excuse, Jessica? Did you think he wasn't going to go that far? Did you think he was just joking? Did you think, were the girl sober, that she would've wanted it too? Or do you firmly believe that you didn't do anything, so you're not at fault here at all? Because you and I didn't rape her, he did. He's the only one to blame, right?_ **

**_Well, I hope that rationale is working out for you. Because let me tell you something. It sure is not working out for me. I’m here to tell you—at the very least, we helped. We're both to blame._ **

**_And I just can’t live with the guilt._ **


	7. CASSETTE 3 (SIDE B)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an early update because you guys have been really amazing! :)

Dean rubs at his eyes. He's close to vomiting again, his mouth tastes disgusting. Castiel's words hang above his head. He clears his throat before saying, "Jessica. Sophomore Jessica? The one you always make goo-goo eyes at?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "Made, Dean. I had a crush on her for like what—a week? She likes _At The Mountains Of Madness_. I couldn't help it."

"Am I supposed to know what that is?" Dean jokingly asks, stalling for time. He doesn't want to listen to the next tape. Not yet.

"H.P. Lovecraft?" Upon seeing the blank look on Dean's face, he adds, "Seriously Dean, you should start reading." Sam can't help but roll his eyes again. "But like I said, I don't have feelings for her anymore."

"Why? Because of these tapes?" Dean turns to look at Sam. "I think Cas blamed the wrong person. What did Jessica do, huh Sam? She just walked away. Tell me, is that a good enough reason to make the girl feel like a _murderer_ for the rest of her life?" Dean spits out angrily and continues, "That was unfair, man. You gotta at least see that."

"Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. But that's not the point Castiel's trying to get across here." Sam sighs. "Jessica knew what that guy wanted to do. I mean, he wasn't exactly subtle. And she let him. It's been over a year since that night, Dean. She walked away and pretended like it didn't happen. For all we know, Jessica might still be friends with that girl—who probably doesn't even remember what that guy did to her. _That_ was unfair, Dean. Not only to the girl, but to Castiel too. The guilt was eating him alive." 

"What if Jessica had her reasons Sam? What if she was threatened by the guy?"

"You heard what Castiel said—"

"Yeah? What if he was lying? What if he made that part up?"

Sam clenches his jaw like he's offended by what Dean said. "Okay, let's say for argument's sake Castiel did lie. But what for? Tell me what's the point in lying when he's going to be dead when we hear the tapes anyways? There's nothing to gain when he's already gone."

Dean flinches as Sam said it. It's only been a week. Dean hasn't reached that part yet. He still doesn't know how to get over the fact that Castiel's gone.

Sam notices and before he can try to rephrase what he said, Dean cuts him off.

"Don't bother Sam." As a means of escape, Dean presses play. 

**_Back to the party, ladies and gentlemen. But don’t get too comfortable. We’ll be leaving in a minute._ **

**_After Jessica and I broke our stare, I aimlessly walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. I grabbed the nearest bottle of liquor I could and I drank it. Then I found another bottle. And one more after that. I wanted to forget—to drown the memories in alcohol until they couldn't get back to the surface. It didn't work though. I couldn't 'unsee' what I saw._ **

**_I wanted to leave. I wanted to go home, but how would I get there? I arrived in Anna's car but she was nowhere to be found. Using the walls as support, I staggered to the door, deciding to wait by the car until Anna came. I needed to be as far away from everybody as possible._ **

**_But Fate had other plans. A hand squeezed my arm. A gentle touch._ **

**_Hello, Jo. Fancy meeting you here._ **

Dean shuts his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. He can't think of a reason why Jo would be here. She barely talked to Castiel, much less before he died. 

Dean swallows. _Castiel._ There's always been a lump in his throat whenever Dean thought about him. And it got a whole lot worse when he received the tapes.

**_She asked where I was going, and I said I was going to wait for Anna by her car. Jo narrowed her eyes at me and told me that Anna had already left. I almost laughed. Did I really expect Anna to stay and wait for me when I left her at the Winter Formal? I should have known._ **

**_I must have looked terrible because she offered me a ride home. Blame it on the alcohol, or the fact that Jo had always been friendly towards me, that I let her take my hand and lead me to her car. It felt good, letting someone help me. God knows that didn't happen too often._ **

**_She buckled me in, got in her seat and then we left._ **

_Somewhere, at that moment,_ Dean thinks, _I was in my car wishing I could talk to Cas again. I was on cloud nine for the rest of the night._

**_Jo, I noticed something off-kilter about you the moment you started driving. I couldn't put my finger on it, so I let it go. I know now that I shouldn't have._ **

**_The drive was silent. My thoughts were elsewhere and my eyes focused on nothing. I wasn't paying any attention because in that car, I felt like I was driving away from the horrible things that happened._ **

**_Then you turned to me and asked if I was okay._ **

**_That's when I broke down._ **

**_I don't know why I did. It was such a simple, non-intrusive question that you probably just asked in order to make conversation. I bet you never expected me crying in your car as a response._ **

**_You pulled over and unbuckled your seat belt. You tugged me closer and hugged me, running one hand through my hair while the other gripped me tight. You started humming a soft tune and we stayed like that until I stopped crying. That's when I noticed it was pouring outside, the sound of raindrops hitting the windshield of your car gently calmed me. In that car, I felt safe._ **

**_And maybe it was that feeling of safety that urged me to speak, to try and explain._ **

**_I opened up to you about everything. About Meg, Charlie, Ruby and everything else in between. Everything... Except what happened to Kevin and what took place at the party that night._ **

Dean feels jealous. Why didn't Cas confide in him? They spoke for a couple of hours, at least. Why didn't Castiel say anything? 

**_You didn’t ask me any questions. And for that I was grateful. I still am. Instead you hugged me tighter, and kept repeating over and over 'It's alright. It's going to be alright." I believed you._ **

**_You asked me again if I was okay, and this time I said yes. Because I really was okay. With the warm air like a blanket and the feeling of a heavy weight being lifted off of my shoulders, I felt secure. It was the best I've ever felt in years._ **

**_You smiled and released me. You buckled your seatbelt and started the car._ **

**_The rain wasn't heavy. With the windows all fogged up from the warm air inside the car, and the rain blurring the road ahead of us, everything was very dreamlike. My mind started drifting, and I found myself falling asleep slowly. It was perfect._ **

Dean thinks back to the night of the party. There was something he's forgetting. Something really important. Something—

**_And then it hit._ **

_Now I remember. Shit. Shit._ Dean knows what's about to happen. _Shit._

**_Nothing like a car accident to bring reality smashing back._ **

**_What happened next, I’m not entirely sure. My eyes were closed, but I felt the car swerve right after you turned around a corner. You gasped. I opened my eyes to see the car rapidly skidding sideways on the wet tarmac. You screamed—and I think I did too—when the car jumped the curb and collided into a tree._ **

Dean knows all about the accident as Jo told him herself. But she didn't mention there being someone else in the car with her. 

**_We sat there for a moment, frozen in our seats. My hands gripped my seatbelt, while yours gripped the steering wheel. There were no words, not an exchange of glances between us. You released a deep breath and opened your door. I watched you walk to the front of your car and examine the dent. You let out a sigh and ran a hand through your hair in frustration. Then you caught my eye. I think you've forgotten I was there, Jo._ **

**_You shrugged at me and got back in the car. I was baffled at how light you seemed to be taking the crash. When you noticed me staring, you giggled and said, "That sucked. My mom is going to kill me."_ **

**_And that was it. That's what I couldn't put my finger on. You were drunk. I smelled the alcohol on you when we walked to your car. I noticed the subtle sway of your steps, the slight slur in your voice, and yet I paid no heed to any of them. I let you drive._ **

_Castiel wasn't seriously blaming himself for what happened, was he? Because the accident wasn't his fault at all._

**_Then you placed your hand in the ignition and... I stopped you before you turned the key. I couldn’t let you drive away._ **

**_You defensively said, “Castiel, I’m not drunk.” Like I just accused you of being drunk. I didn't. But I couldn't let you drive when you couldn't even keep your car on the road._ **

**_You tried for the key again. I told you to stop. You asked me to be reasonable. My house was quite a distance away, and the quicker we get back on the road, the quicker we could both be home—safe and sound._**

_Jo, you're so stubborn and careless and seriously, the next time I see you, I swear to God...._ Dean shakes his head in disapproval. When Jo told him about the car accident she got herself into, Dean—taking on the role of the responsible big brother—gave her an hour long lecture on drunk driving. Now though, with the knowledge of what really happened, Dean won't know what to say to Jo. Not only was she stupid enough to get behind the wheel while under the influence, but she also didn't listen to Castiel when he tried to stop her. Not once. But twice. Needless to say, Dean was disappointed in Jo.

**_I refused and insisted that we use your phone to call your mom, or a friend to give us a ride home. We'll return first thing in the morning to get your car._ **

**_But you tried again. “Castiel, listen to me. It's going to be alright.” I didn't believe you. I couldn't. Not that time._ **

**_“Don't,” I said. “Please.”_ **

**_You shook your head and told me to get out. But I wouldn't. You repeated yourself, “Get out.” Your voice laced with anger._ **

**_I sat for a long time, listening to the rain and the wipers, wondering where I went wrong._ **

_You didn't go wrong anywhere, Cas. That wasn't your fault. I'm sorry you didn't see it that way._

**_“Castiel. Get. Out!” You shouted, and it took me by surprise. I stepped out of your car and looked at you through the windshield. You were staring ahead, and when I closed the car door, you turned the key in the ignition and drove away. I let you drive away._ **

**_You listeners are probably wondering why I'm telling you this story when Jo reached her house in one piece. When she went to school the very next day, looking like she wasn't involved in any accident the night before._ **

**_Well, imagine how much worse it could have been if the rain was a tad heavier, or if the road was a tad more slippery, or if the corner was a tad bit sharper. I could only think of the girl at the party, and how I didn't stop what happened. I only thought of the worst thing that could happen if I didn't say anything and let you drive, when I knew it wasn't safe for you. So I did my best to stop you._ **

**_And Jo, from your response that night you proved to me that it's no use trying to speak up because no one will ever listen to me. That it doesn't matter what I say, or how hard I plead... no one is going to pay attention._ **

_That's not true, Cas. I was there, I've always been there. I would have listened. You just didn't see me._

**_Now I know you didn't mean to. In fact, you were doing great up until the accident. You tried to make me feel better, and I did, even just for a while. You comforted me, and you listened as I told you my story._ **

**_Jo, you didn't tell a soul any of the things I told you. And as crazy as it sounds, it's for that reason that you're here on these tapes._ **

**_Strike two._ **

**_Because just like Charlie, you had the power to help me fix everything. You both knew the truth. No, wait—that's wrong—Charlie didn't know about Meg. She did, however, know the truth about our staged relationship. She could have helped me fix that. Just like you could have helped me fix everything, Jo._ **

**_I told you everything. And you saw how much I needed someone to speak up for me, because I couldn't._ **

**_Instead of helping me though, you drove away. After that night you did your best to avoid me. When we cross paths in the hallway, you would either pretend like you didn't see me or you would smile and say hi like we've never had a conversation prior to that one._ **

**_Did you act that way because I tried to keep you from driving that night? Did you decide to forget I was ever there with you in the car? And since you didn't want to remember me, you also decided to forget the things I told you._ **

**_I guess it doesn't matter now, whether you've forgotten or not. All I want you to remember is this, Jo: You knew. You just chose not to say anything. You could have done something... But you didn't._ **

**_Next tape. Number Seven... You were wondering when you'd come up, weren't you? Well, guess what? It's your turn now._ **

"Sam, take me to Jo." Dean is feeling constricted in the car, thinking about the accident in the tape.

It takes a while for Sam to realize the command is directed at him. He creases his eyebrows and sits there thinking about something for a minute. After a beat or so passes he asks, "Are you sure? What are you going to do Dean?" 

"Nothing Sam, I just want to ask her something." Sam doesn't look convinced. Dean looks at Sam in the eyes and swears. Sam drives.

Ten minutes later Dean is knocking on Jo Harvelle's door. He knows Jo will be home, since she hasn't been in school for being sick these past couple of days. Dean also knows that she's the only one there, because it's just Jo and her mom, Ellen, living together and right now Ellen should be managing the Roadhouse, which is a famous diner around the locals, and that's an all day job.

A healthy looking Jo opens the door. She doesn't look surprised to see him standing at her door. "You look like crap."

"You don't," Dean says as Jo makes a way for him to come in. "I thought you were sick."

Jo laughs. "Hey, I'm not the only truant in this conversation." She crosses her arms across her chest. "Why are you here, Dean?"

They're still standing in the doorway. "You know why," Dean lifts Jo's tape up for her to see.

"Look I can explain—" 

"Don't." Dean doesn't want to hear excuses. Not from anyone. Not now. "I just want to know why didn't you tell anybody." Before Jo answers, Dean interjects with, "I'm not talking about the accident."

A pause. Jo takes a shaky breath. "I don't know. I was scared. It was heavy—you listened to the tapes, you know that. It was a mess and I didn't know where to start." Jo's eyes start welling up and her head droops forward. "So I didn't try. I mean, it was my word against the whole student body's. No one would have believed me." 

Dean tries to suppress the bitterness and anger he felt. He hits the wall with the side of his fist. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped!" He grits his teeth, wanting to shout at Jo. But he can't. It's no use. It won't right any wrongs. "When things turn to shit, you come to _me_ Jo. That was a year of knowing the truth. I could have thought of something, anything, instead of just leaving him there."

"I'm sorry." Jo tentatively walks to Dean. She hugs him. "I didn't know he would do this to himself. If I'd known I..."

"Yeah, me too." Dean hugs back just as tight. He murmurs in Jo's hair. "I have to go." 

As he turns towards the door, Jo stops him and asks, "Have you... Heard yours yet?" Dean shakes his head. 

"Well good luck, Dean. I think you're going to need it." Jo says before closing the door.

And with Jo's words in the back of his mind, Dean climbs into the Impala, and nods to Sam. His brother reads his expression and seems to understand that _everything is okay_ and _I didn't murder anybody_ and _just drive, man._ Dean grabs the fourth tape from the shoebox, inserts it into the Walkman and presses play.


	8. CASSETTE 4 (SIDE A)

**_Story number seven. We're halfway there. It seems as if it were only one hour ago that I was telling you a story about swings and a picnic... when it's actually been two hours._ **

Castiel laughed softly. Dean snorts at Castiel's attempt at humor. _At least you tried, Cas._

**_Where was I? Ahhh, yes. The tree._ **

**_Jo revved the engine and peeled away. I came to the conclusion that she wasn't coming back and there was nobody coming for me, so I turned away from the tree and made the long trek home. Rain was still falling—soaking through my clothes—and the cold made it hard for me to walk straight, much less think straight._ **

**_I knew that before I went home I needed to calm down. I had to stop crying. I needed to invent answers to questions that Gabriel might ask when he sees me soaking wet, sans backpack. That's why I wandered the streets, turning corner after corner with no set destination. I walked without thinking about which direction to go. And it felt great, imagining the streets taking me somewhere far enough away that no one would find me._ **

**_I must have walked for hours, but eventually I made it home. That is where our next red star can be found. A-4 on your maps, ladies and gentlemen. We lived in that house ever since we first came to town. When you’re done listening to this tape, you should go there. Most of you have never been._ **

The first and only time Dean was ever in Castiel's house was That Night. Dean doesn't want to go back. The memories will be too much for him.

**_As expected, Gabriel was waiting for me._ **

**_Hello, brother._ **

Dean has never personally met Gabriel. But from what he'd heard from Cas, the guy sounds like a trickster. Which is Dean's way of saying the guy's a dick nicely.

**_You pretended to be focused on the television program, however I knew you were watching me in the corner of your eye. You watched as I set about removing my shoes—drenched and muddy—as well my trench coat. The coat must have weighed a hundred pounds from all the rainwater it's absorbed. I staggered out of the doorway. My head was pounding. I realized that I was experiencing my first ever hangover. There was nothing worth celebrating though, I only felt the urge to cover the entire doorway with vomit and... Well, vomit._ **

**_When I snuck a look at you, you were staring. You weren't trying to be subtle anymore, you were watching me intently. You stood up and we never once broke our stare until you flicked the light on and I flinched and I had to look away. I walked as fast as I could to the stairs. I needed to get to my room, or at least the bathroom to get some aspirin._ **

Dean remembers his first hangover. He was at the tender age of fifteen, and he wanted to know what drinking was like. His dad was the one who gave him the first bottle saying _might as well learn how to drink from your father than learn from your dumbass friends._ It was all happy-father-son-bonding-time until the next day, where Dean was dry heaving in the bathroom while his whole family laughed their asses off.

**_I stole a glance at the clock. It was 2 o' clock in the morning. You stalked right behind me and greeted me to stop me from climbing up the stairs. I remember you saying, "Hey little bro! I know you said not to wait up but I wanted to. How was the project?"_ **

**_I gave you an answer along the lines of "Fine," and "Tolerable."_ **

**_I heard you sigh, and I could feel your eyes boring into the back of my head. You stood there in silence. A silence that said, 'I know you're hiding something and we're going to stand here until you come clean."_ **

**_"Really?" You murmured, but it was loud enough for me to hear. "Who knew kids in Lawrence threw such insipid parties?"_ **

**_I winced. You must have noticed. I turned around to see a smirk on your face. There was no use trying to say the excuses I rehearsed on the way home when you already knew about the party. We stood there staring at each other, and I opened my mouth to explain but you cut me off._ **

**_"I don't know if I should be angry that you lied to me, or be absolutely overjoyed that you actually let loose and went to a party."_ **

**_I am going to pause here and clarify something. Gabriel and I had never been close. He was three years older than me, which meant when we were kids, he was long gone and moved on from the things I was interested in. And those interests quickly became more different when we turned into teenagers. The things I loved, Gabriel mocked and scoffed at. He thought I was the uptight nerd while he was the cool guy who knew how to have fun. But at the same time, I deemed his interests nonsensical. Honestly, I didn't understand him at all._ **

**_That summarizes our relationship, actually. Gabriel and I did not understand each other at all. However, I don't think we cared enough to fix that._ **

**_So I nodded and didn't say anything. I figured I would let Gabriel tease me until he was satisfied._ **

**_"Cassy, did you meet someone at the party? A foxy lady perhaps?"_ **

**_"No."_ **

**_"No? I know your type. Want me to hook you up with someone?"_ **

**_"No, Gabriel."_ **

**_"It's no big deal, little bro. I can do it right now if you--"_ **

**_"No, Gabriel. Stop." I raised my voice. That was the only way you'd hear me. "I—I've never had—I don't want that."_ **

**_You raised your eyebrows at me and smirked. I knew what you were going to say before you said it._ **

**_"Castiel, no need to play innocent. I know the rumors."_ **

**_“You can’t know rumors,” I said. I admit, I was being a little sensitive. But I had hoped that the rumors didn't reach Gabriel. I hoped that Gabriel ignored them, or maybe forgot about them during his travels to India or Sweden or wherever he went. I hoped that I'd left the rumors and gossip behind me—for good. “You can hear rumors,” I said, “but you can’t know them.”_ **

**_Again, you said my name.“Castiel," You stepped closer. "It's okay. Actually, I kind of hoped the rumors were true, because it'd be good for you to take part in such an amazing voyeuristic opportunity. A close encounter of the sexual kind. I bet you made her scream." You laughed. I felt disgusted._ **

Dean's fingers dig into the chair. The last thing Castiel needed was someone making a joke out of what everyone gave him shit about.

**_That's when I snapped._ **

**_I yelled at you. Told you that you have absolutely no idea what really happened. No idea about what I've been through—what the truth is—because you take every chance you could get just to leave our family. Because you would rather waste your life partying and sleeping with god knows who in a country only god knows where._ **

**_Yes, Gabriel, I knew the rumors. You saw me carry them around like my own brand of a scarlet letter._ **

**_And I cursed you for looking the other way while every student in Pontiac made my life miserable. I blamed you for listening to the hearsay rather than believing your own brother._ **

**_But then again, why should you believe me? Why would anyone believe the words of a perverted freak versus the words of a whole school? Huh, Meg? why?_ **

Gabriel could have heard so many rumors about Castiel. But none of them were true.

**_What pushed me over the edge though, was the fact that you seemed proud of hearing that I took advantage of Meg. At the time, you probably didn't have a clue as to why I threw such a fit at you when you thought you were only joking. But after listening to what happened in Jessica's tape, I'm certain that now you know why. I couldn't stand how you easily turned something as horrible as rape into a joke, Gabriel, regardless that it was only a rumor._ **

**_You stood there and took the abuse I screamed at you. Gabriel, if anything—I'm sorry. You didn't deserve most of the things I said. You didn't know what happened that night. I lost my temper when I shouldn’t have._ **

**_But Gabriel, I wasn't the only one who lost their temper._ **

**_When I was done shouting insults at you, you laughed. A laugh that was derisive and frightening at the same time._ **

**_You said, "Do you really want to know why I'm never around?" You scoffed. "It's because I hate this family. Dad never comes home. It's always work this, work that... I swear he does that on purpose. I mean, it's pretty obvious that he doesn't want to be at home too. You wanna know why? Because we hate coming home and seeing you. I hate seeing the freak who took mom away, Dad hates being around the kid who killed his wife."_ **

**_And the truth comes out, ladies and gentlemen._ **

**_You smirked at me. Why Gabriel? Was it because you saw me hurting from what you said? Was it because you finally got the truth out? Or was it because you got back at me with your own set of abuse? Well congratulations, Gabriel, you dished out your revenge and I couldn't take it._ **

**_And as if rubbing salt in the wound you inflicted, you said, "No one cares if you're broken, Castiel." Then you left._ **

Castiel's voice cracked at the last syllable. The tape went quiet for a bit, save for Castiel's uneven breathing, like he was trying to hold back his tears. Dean rests his head against the car window. _That was absolutely the last thing he needed._

**_After that, I climbed upstairs and into my room. I shut the door behind me and I slid down to the floor. That's when I let myself go. I cried and I sobbed and I screamed until I couldn't anymore. I cried myself hoarse, lying on the floor with soaking wet clothes on as Gabriel's words finally sunk in._ **

**_Nobody cares._ **

**_Not Jessica. Not Jo. Not even Gabriel. And if my own family doesn't care about me, then why should I?_ **

**_Surprisingly I found myself okay with that. I realized I was tired of everything. I was tired of caring, I was tired of saving, I was tired of being used. That was the first time I ever considered... Leaving it all behind._ **

**_I pushed that thought away though. I made a promise never to do that to myself. But who knew that a year from that night, I'll be wishing I ended everything sooner._ **

**_Gabriel, I do apologize. I'm sorry our mother is dead because of me. I never knew how much her death had hurt you. In the past, you'd never mentioned our mom, or how much you missed her. I never knew how much you hated me for being alive instead of her._ **

**_Maybe you didn't mean to let that little fact slip out of your mouth. You wouldn’t hurt your own brother if you could help it, right? You had always tried to look out for me when we were children, so I hoped that you didn't hate me the entire time I was your brother. Well, I guess I'll never know._ **

**_So, who's next? Someone who was mentioned in these tapes more than once... if you were listening carefully you'd already know. Have you guessed yet? Turn the tape over to find out if you're correct._ **

Dean feels dizzy. He reaches to open the glove compartment, and fishes for some aspirin. When he finds them, he pops two out and swallows them dry.

"Dean?"

"Yeah Sam. I'm fine." He sinks down further in his seat. He glances outside and notices that they were on their way to Castiel's house. "No. Just—drive. Don't stop at his house. Please."

"Okay." Sam nods, understanding. "We'll go wherever you need to go." 

Dean pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. "I can't do this. I know I said I will, but I can't. I don't want to hear what I did."

"Dean, what Gabriel said to Cas was awful. You've got to—"

"But the pot can't exactly call the kettle black, can I? This is the seventh story, Sam. Cas said it's only going to get worse. Now if you haven't noticed, I'm not in the past tapes so," Dean shrugs, "I don't know about you but that basically means I've done something worse to Cas without even knowing it." 

Sam doesn't say anything. Instead he just looks straight ahead, suddenly very interested in the car in front of them.

So Dean flips the tape B-side out, knowing that the only way he'll get a straight answer is by listening to Castiel. He presses play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating because I have absolutely no sense of regularity anymore. I normally post chapters every Friday but because of reasons ( _I-honestly-don't-know-why_ ) I'm updating now. D: Let's just pretend today is Friday, okay? :) The next chapter will be posted next Friday as normal. 
> 
> Goodbye my pretty birdies! <3


	9. CASSETTE 4 (SIDE B)

**_Number Eight. It's been a long time coming. But you knew you were going to pop up sooner or later. From the clue I gave on the previous tape, it's not that hard to figure out who you are. But let's keep them guessing for a little while longer, shall we?_ **

_Is it Lucifer? Or Anna? Or maybe it's Kevin, since Cas said the kid's going to be mentioned again._

**_They're not the only ones guessing though. I don't think you know exactly why you're here—and right now you're praying the story I'm going to tell is about the night of the football game. But that was petty, Number Eight. Like I said in Ruby's tape: I had to choose the stories that caused cracks, the ones that twisted the knife lodged in my chest._ **

**_And this story, is it._ **

**_Here's a question for all of you: would you want the ability to hear other people’s thoughts?_ **

**_Of course you would answer yes to that question. Everyone does. That is, until they think it all the way through. For example, what if other people could hear your thoughts? What if they could hear your thoughts...right now?_ **

Dean instinctively looks at Sam. If his brother can hear his thoughts right now, _he'll hear confusion. Frustration. Anger. Even some regret. He'll hear the words of a dead boy running through my head. A boy who blames me for his suicide but still has a way of making me miss him more than anything._

**_Sometimes we have thoughts we don't want others to know about. Thoughts that run through our heads day in and day out—these thoughts may be the emotions we're truly feeling at the time, or say, the truth to a rumor you've been hearing all day._ **

**_Or they could be secrets._ **

**_If you could hear other people’s thoughts, you’d overhear the secrets they're keeping in their heads. The bad, the good, and the ugly—all of it. Because every one has secrets, and they just can't seem to stop these secrets from replaying in their heads over and over again like a mantra. A reminder that you better be careful, or else someone might know._ **

**_If you could hear people's thoughts, you'd hear all if these so-called mantras. You'd know everything about everyone without them having uttered a single word. It'd drive you insane._ **

**_Thank God that doesn't happen in real life. In the world we're living in, you won't have to bear any secrets unless they're yours._ **

**_Or unless, of course, people with these secrets tell you themselves._ **

**_And that's exactly what happened when you, Number Eight, drove to my house in the middle of the night with a secret you just had to tell me._ **

**_But why me, of all people? Why did you choose to tell me your secret? Was it because you thought I owed you?_ **

**_Well, I'm pretty sure you evened out the score when you left me at that party. In fact, you did more than that. Had you not abandoned me the second we arrived, I wouldn't have been stuck in that closet. Had you not left me, I wouldn't have been in Jo's car. Had you not pressured me to go, I wouldn't have had that fight with Gabriel._ **

**_So yes, you did more than just get even._ **

**_But that wasn't enough for you, was it Anna? You just had to hammer another nail in my coffin before you leave me for good. You just had to give me another secret I had to keep._ **

_How many secrets did you have to keep, Cas? How come you never said anything? If keeping these secrets were the main reasons why you left, then you should have told me! I was with you That Night. You had the chance to say something. Anything._

**_The midnight in question was a month after the party. Incidentally, Gabriel left for college the morning after our little conflict in the previous tape. Obviously his 'holiday' was cut short because of our sparring match. And with my father still in his business trip, I was well and truly alone in that house._ **

**_Were you aware of that Anna? Was that why you weren't afraid to pay me such an inopportune visit?_ **

**_You knocked on my door and I opened it to see you crying, and when I asked you what you were doing outside my house, you tried to explain but all I heard was a mess of sobs and hiccups. I didn't understand a word you were saying. That's when you held up a pregnancy test device._ **

**_Two lines. It was positive._ **

_Oh shit. Oh shit. Anna was pregnant? One month after the party... That means Anna was pregnant around ten months ago._ But Dean can't seem to remember Anna sporting a baby bump. 

_Wait. Hold up. Was it Castiel's?_

**_You started shaking, and I took you inside and sat you down in the living room. You calmed down enough to tell me you did the test just a couple of hours ago, because you had a sinking feeling when you were a week late. I tried to not look as awkward as I felt._ **

_Yeah,_ Dean thinks, _period talks are generally really awkward. And gross._

**_Before all of you jump into silly conclusions, the child wasn't mine. That I knew for sure. I haven't—I've never—anyway, you know what I mean._ **

Castiel sounded self-conscious. Dean finds it adorable. _Oh crap. Is that creepy? Finding a dead guy adorable?_

**_I asked if you knew who the father was. You did, but you said it didn't matter. It didn't matter because..._ **

Castiel takes a deep breath. 

**_You couldn't keep the baby. And you knew the father wouldn't want to either. You said you've already made an appointment, and that you've already made up your mind. You also said that you didn't care if I was against it, there was nothing I could possibly say or do to change your decision._ **

_Fuck. That's—fuck._

**_But see I understood you, Anna. You were seventeen and still in high school. Your parents ruled over you and your sister with an iron fist, commanding you to maintain a squeaky-clean image. It wasn't for your sake thought, it was for their own reputation in the community. And that meant that any news—even rumors—of one of their daughters being a lesbian and the other being pregnant simply cannot exist. Or else it would tarnish the clean, wholesome image that your parents insist you possess._ **

**_What I didn't understand was: Why me? Why did you come to my house to tell me?_ **

**_You had many friends you could have turned to. You were certainly closer to them. Anna, you could have even confided in your sister. Why did you choose me?_ **

**_Maybe it was because you knew I wouldn't tell anybody. Maybe because you knew I had nobody to tell. Maybe it was because you think I still owe you. Whatever the reason was, you begged me to go with you, saying I was the only one who could._ **

**_So I did._ **

_God dammit, Cas. When will you learn not to say yes?_

**_I couldn't possibly let you go to the clinic alone._ **

**_You came to my house the following weekend and together we drove to the clinic. There were protestors outside, and I would be lying if I said I didn't expect them. Some of them were polite enough, pleading you not to go in, while others were more aggressive, shouting profanities and accusations. I saw your shoulders shake as your eyes watered, so I wrapped my arm around you and hurried you inside._ **

**_At the clinic, you filled out your forms and handed them to the woman at the counter. A few minutes later, a nurse came to collect you. You hugged me, then followed the nurse down a hallway. Only as I sat back down to my seat, did I realize I was shaking. I waited for two hours._ **

**_When you came out, you were devoid of emotion. We walked silently to the car; the protestors were nothing but white noise now. You handed me the keys, and asked me to take you anywhere except home._ **

**_I drove to my house. You held my hand the entire ride home, even up until we reached my front door. I walked you to the couch and fetched you a glass of water but you didn't drink it. I sat on the floor by the couch. You slowly laid down, curling up into a fetal position. You cried then, wailing and sobbing and gripping your chest so hard as if your heart was breaking and you were trying to hold the pieces together. You kept saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," and I moved to console you but you wouldn't let me near. Instead you hugged yourself closer, tighter, until you stopped crying. You fell asleep soon after. I didn't leave the floor. I stayed in case you needed to talk. In case you needed someone there when you wake up._ **

Dean was speechless. To have to go through something like that must have been devastating. Dean casts his mind back to junior year and remembers a a few days when Anna seemed out if it, having this weird faraway look in her eyes. Dean also remembers asking, but Anna just shrugged them off and smiled like nothing was wrong. Now Dean knows why. And he doesn't know if he can look at Anna in the eye after this. Not after hearing what had happened. 

**_But you didn't even acknowledge my presence. You got up and quickly walked to the bathroom, avoiding my eyes. You were as silent and as empty of expression as you were in the clinic the day before. If no one paid close attention to the slight redness of your eyes, they wouldn't know you've been crying. You made your way out the door, turning the doorknob and for a moment the click of the latch was the only sound between us. Before walking out unto the front steps, you looked at me and whispered, "Thank you."_ **

**_Then you shut the door behind you and left._ **

**_Anna, I stood there at the same spot for what seemed like hours, wondering if there was anything we could have done different. Would you have kept the baby if the father wanted it, or if you told Charlie and she asked you to keep it? I wondered if you would have kept the child if your parents allowed you to. Or if I persisted against the idea and urged you to defy your parents... Which would have been selfish._ **

**_But in the end, it didn't matter what my beliefs were in regards to the termination, Anna. It was your choice. Your mind was made up, and I had no right in forcing you to think otherwise. The only thing I could do was be right beside you when you needed it._ **

Dean couldn't help but agree to what Castiel said. Despite him being against the procedure, if it was him in Castiel's shoes, he probably would have done the same thing. It's just that Dean thinks Anna should have taken the chance and rebelled, if she really wanted to keep the baby. Dean would have been more than happy to support her. But Dean also knows it's not that easy.

**_However I couldn't help asking myself if what we did was the right thing, if your reputation really was worth the loss of a child. I couldn't help but feel guilty. I couldn't help but grieve. I couldn't help but stay up late at night wondering if you felt the same, if you felt like you were missing a part of you._ **

**_I never found out the answer to that, though, because you never spoke to me again. You avoided me and ignored me and I swear, I once noticed you running off to the opposite direction when you saw me at the other end of the school hallway. I didn't ask why because I understood. Seeing my face only reminded you of what you lost._ **

**_Anna, this tape isn't about me telling everyone your secret. This isn't about being angry at you for staying as far away from me as you could. This isn't about me judging you for what you did because at the time, what you did was the only option for you. And I can't fault you for that._ **

**_I needed to tell your story because this was the point where the secrets were piling too high for me to breathe. It was all too much. In the end I was scared that I was going to burst and spill out into the streets._ **

**_I needed to tell all of you where I began to feel tired of keeping these secrets. I reached a point where I felt like I was drowning, and began to lose my grip on everything. Not necessarily because of you, Anna, but because keeping these secrets were breaking me. These secrets were proof that no matter what I do, I end up alone and hating myself more than anything._ **

**_I wanted to forget. I would have done anything to forget. Because I knew that the more I thought about the secrets I was keeping—the things I could have done differently—I was afraid I might kill myself._ **

**_And then where would we be?_ **


	10. CASSETTE 5 (SIDE A)

The tape hums and softly clicks into silence. Dean pulls the earphones from his ears and just... sits. Unable to move, unable to speak, unable to process the second half of Anna's tape. He suddenly has the urge to throw the car door open and _run_ , run as far as he could, as fast as he could. Why does he have to listen to this? Why does he have to hear the secrets that killed Cas? Was he expecting Dean to keep all of these secrets for him? Why should he? 

_Once these tapes reaches Number Thirteen—whether that person is me or not—I can pretty much do whatever I want with the content. I can go to the Principal and tell him what happened to Kevin, or corner Jessica Moore somewhere to get her to tell me who the rapist was. Then I'll call the fucking police. Or I'll kill Lucifer and the rapist myself. Depends on what my mood is._

After these tapes, there's a lot of girls Dean is going to slap—Women rights be damned. Ruby, Charlie, Jo (he didn't have the balls to do it the first time but when he sees her again she's got another thing coming.) and he might even drive to Pontiac to slap that Meg Masters in the mouth. On the way there, he'll definitely stop by KU to kick Gabriel in the ass. _Yeah,_ Dean thinks, _that sounds like a plan. After these tapes, doing those are my top priorities._

_After these tapes..._

After these tapes, Dean's hoping he can move on. Whether he's lucky Number Thirteen or not, he's hoping to find a way to forgive himself—or at least friggin' tolerate himself—enough not to wallow in self-hatred and regret for the rest of his life. But if Dean knows himself (and he does), he knows for sure that he won't stop. There is no way he can move past this. There is no way to forget. The Ol' Winchester Way of 'Suppress, Suck-It-Up and Smile' isn't going to work this time. 

Dean also knows it's not just because of the tapes. It's more than that. 

It's Cas. 

It's always been about Cas. At least it's always been that way to Dean. Ever since that morning in Physics class, Dean's been addicted to the guy. The feeling became clearer and fiercer after talking to Cas for the first time, it's ridiculous. More so after the night of the party... And stronger still even after That Night. 

There is no way to forget something like that.

"You know," Sam said, pulling Dean from his thoughts. "It was Anna's tape that made me stop and question this whole thing. I mean, yeah, she wasn't the World's Best Pal and I get that Castiel wanted to tell us his side of the story but was it right to blame Anna because she asked him for help? 'Cause that was basically all she did." Sam takes a deep breath and continues, "Imagine how Anna must have felt. She lost her baby, Dean. We have no idea if she wanted to keep it, all we know is that she couldn't. What if she wanted to? Then that meant what she did must have wrecked her." 

Dean snorts. "The girl parties like there's no tomorrow, Sam. If that's her when she's totally 'wrecked', then I'd like to see what she looks like when she's crushed." 

"Anna must have friggin' buried that kind of crap underneath 20 feet of dirt and an ocean inside her head. Hell, that's the kind of thing _you_ would do, Dean! You drink to forget sometimes. So why is Anna doing the same thing so hard for you to relate to?"

That shuts Dean up. It's true. The night after he found out that Castiel had died he drank all of his dad's liquor. And by all of it, Dean means all of it. He's surprised he was still alive and walking the next day. His dad was, too. It wasn't his proudest moment. 

"I get it Dean. Really, I do. You're mad that Anna took advantage of Cas over and over again. And it makes you furious that she's going about her life acting like nothing's happened even after he's dead."

"Sam—"

"Shut up Dean. I'm not done talking. " Sam's eyes narrow at him. "But you can't blame her for doing what she's doing now. She couldn't keep her child, Dean. Castiel helped with it. Thinking about Castiel and what happened will kill her. So she pretends like nothing happened because that's the only thing she can do."

Dean's gaze lingers at Sam's face, seeing an expression that Dean recognizes as the one Sam always uses when he is pleading with Dean. Eyebrows knotted and eyes watery. Dean looks away, however he can still see Sam out of the corner of his eye, staring at him. Sam sits there obviously unsure of what Dean is going to do.

Dean opens the Walkman, pops out tape number four, and inserts tape number five.

**_This tape is all about the number nine. The ninth person, the ninth reason, the ninth door to the left, the ninth desk from the right, the nine times I asked you to stop but you didn't._ **

**_You know who you are. You know exactly why you're here and you're praying that I wouldn't do this._ **

**_F-10 on your maps. Go there, and it might help you understand things a lot better. But I don't know. I'm not you, so I don't know._ **

Dean doesn't bother to look at Sam. He knows his brother is driving him there already.

**_While you do that, I’m going to go back and tell everyone how this all began. And if I’m wrong with the time line, Number Nine—in fact if I've been wrong about the time lines in any of your stories then find the other people on these tapes and let them know._ **

**_You’ll do that, right? All of you? You’ll fill in the gaps? Because the stories I'm telling doesn't even begin to cover everything._ **

Dean stops hearing the rev of the engine. He realizes the car has stopped, and that they've reached their destination. A bookstore.

_A bookstore?_

He turns to Sam and gestures at the building. Sam only nods and climbs out of the Impala. Dean follows him.

**_This story began with one of my many tours around the town. I explored alleys and hidden roads I never knew existed. I discovered neighborhoods entirely new to me. Every turn I made unveiled a new street, a new building._ **

**_That's when I stumbled upon an art gallery. Most of you probably didn't know, but I love painting—staring at paintings, to be more specific. Every attempt of drawing I've made had been an insult to the art form. But there's something about immersing yourself in a world so different to yours that makes paintings very profound things. The first time you look at a painting, you'd see a mass of colors, jumbled shapes, however upon further inspection it becomes more than that. The colors allude to depth and the shapes shift into pictures. And, like alleyways and hidden roads you discover new pictures the more you explore. But sometimes it's not as easy. There are paintings where the colors don't seem to allude to anything and the jumbled shapes remain the way they are... Jumbled. So you sit there wondering what that painting is supposed to be. What does the artist mean?_ **

**_For me, it's the same with poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you’re not sure what the poet’s talking about. You may have an idea, but you can’t be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings. Is it a stand-in—a symbol—for another idea? Does it fit into a larger, more hidden, metaphor?_ **

_This is the ninth person, Cas. If it’s about poetry, then it’s not about me. And there are only four names to go._

**_Poems are like puzzles. It’s up to the reader to decipher the code, or the words, based on everything they know about life and emotions. And the more I read, the more I decoded the world within the pages, the more I started to see something worth sticking around for. I'd scour through second-hand bookstores, looking for poetry I haven't read yet. Sometimes I'd stop by the art gallery to read these books and it would complete my day, really. Just knowing I'd be going to the art gallery to read poetry made the days more bearable._**

**_And that's where you came in, Number Nine._**

**_Good day, Ms. Barnes. How is my favorite English teacher?_**

_Ms. Barnes? Pamela Barnes?_

**_No. Castiel wouldn't involve a member of the school staff in these tapes, would he? He can't bring her into this. Pamela could tell the school, and they can not know about these tapes._ **

_But if I'm listening to these tapes right now, they've already reached Pamela._

****_You’ve known this right from the beginning, Ms. Barnes. I’m certain that at the first mention of poetry, you knew this one was about you. But you're probably thinking, "This can't be why I'm here. It wasn't a big deal."_ ** **

****_Have you guessed what this story is about yet? No?_ ** **

****_Then let's keep going._ ** **

****_I found a bookstore called 'The Ink Room'. It's a small store, wedged between a '60's-themed diner and a thrift shop._ ** **

Dean lets his eyes wander on the front of the store. The outside has a fading green color painted on its walls, and the store window shows a variety of used books and novels. _So this is it then,_ Dean thinks as he stared up at the yellowing wooden sign. _This is the bookstore Cas was talking about._

****_The books sold there were of good quality. Once you get there, you should read some. You might learn to love it as much as I did. Ms. Barnes certainly did. She frequented the place, and as fate would have it we came to the shop on the same day. We talked, and she recommended her favorites. I liked them, so I returned to the bookstore to find more, and there she was again. It became a cycle. She'd give me books to read, I'd love them, I'd go back to find more, and then she'd provide me with more._ ** **

****_After a while it became something else besides reading books—no, not like that. I would never do that—Ms. Barnes taught me the value in writing poetry. And truth be told, there is no better way to explore your emotions than with poetry. So I started writing._ ** **

****_I bought a spiral notebook to keep all of my poems in one place. A couple days a week, after school, I’d go to the art gallery and write a poem or two. My first few attempts were a bit clumsy. I was trying too hard. There wasn't much depth or subtlety. But some came out fairly well, if I do say so myself. At least, I think they did. It didn't matter, I suppose. Writing made me happy._ ** **

Dean finds it sad how Cad found solace in poetry, when he could have called for Dean and Dean would have come running. 

****_And foolish child that I was, I decided to share my work with someone else thinking that they might appreciate what I wrote. Therefore, I showed them to you, Ms. Barnes. I even took the biggest chance of all and handed you my entire notebook of poetry. And, as poets never do, I explained myself. Line for line._ ** **

****_You thought they were amazing. You praised me and congratulated me, you even told me that I had the potential to be a successful writer. It made me feel on top of the world. You said one poem in particular grabbed your attention. And you wanted to know why I wrote it._ ** **

****_With poems, I said, you have to treat them as puzzles. It's up to you to decipher it. I was interested in knowing what you thought it meant._ ** **

****_You then told me that it was about wanting to reveal what is really behind the masks that the people surrounding me wear. It was about me telling the world to stop hurting others. But more than that, you said it was about me telling myself not to hide. At least, that’s what you thought it meant. You felt it went deeper than even a woman with an English degree could figure out. It didn't stop you from trying, though._ ** **

****_"From what?" you kept asking me. "What could you possibly be hiding from?" Why would I be scared of being with someone?_ ** **

_Yeah, Cas. I want to know the answer to that, too._

****_Then you told me what you thought was the answer, and I knew I was going to cry._ ** **

****_You said it was about me being afraid of my feelings not being reciprocated because the person I loved was influenced by everyone around them. However you also told me I was afraid that if the feelings were mutual, the world would shun us, try to hide us, or destroy us._ ** **

****_I was surprised. You caused my gut to clench and I felt sick. But you want to know what the most terrifying part was?_ ** **

****_She would refer to 'the person I loved' as 'he'._ ** **

_He? A boy? Cas wrote a poem about a boy?_

****_When I asked you why you did so, you said, "Why else would you be so afraid of being with someone? It's blatant. You're in love with a boy and you're terrified."_ ** **

****_I was speechless. Honestly, I hadn't really thought about it. My sexuality, I mean. After my initial confusion after Charlie's confession there were so many things occurring at once that I never got the chance to stop and wonder. My poem told a different story though._ ** **

****_Upon looking at it one more time, I realized you were right. I had feelings for someone—a boy—and it scared me to my core. I didn't want to think about it. I wanted to hide it away._ ** **

Will it be totally stupid of Dean to hope it was him that Castiel liked?

****_And if you knew how afraid I was—if that’s what you thought—then why did you steal my notebook? Why did you print my poem, the poem that you yourself called “dark" in one of your classes?_ ** **

****_Why did you let other people read it?_ ** **

****_And dissect it. And make fun of it. All without my permission. I kindly asked for you to not give my poem to other teachers, but you let other classrooms full of students cut up my poem, searching for its meaning. I repeatedly pleaded for you to stop using my poem, but you didn't listen. Since you didn't listen, I stopped asking. In a matter of weeks, the whole school has heard the poem of the anonymous writer._ ** **

Could the poem Castiel was talking about be the one Ms. Barnes read to them in English class? Was it? 

****_So now you know. The poem you've read a million times? That was mine. For those of you who need a refresher, here it is._ ** **

**“Alive” by Castiel Novak.**

**_Take me to a dream where you and I_**  
 ** _Are you and I_**  
 ** _And the morning light does nothing to hide us_**  
 ** _Where my words_**  
 ** _Fall fearlessly from my lips_**  
 ** _Not caged in my ribs_**  
 ** _Where your eyes_**  
 ** _Are not painted over_**  
 ** _Covered by cowardice and lies_**  
 ** _Where our bodies_**  
 ** _Are silent companions to our minds_**  
 ** _Not the chaos that strike in reckless abandon_**  
 ** _Where your arms and your voice_**  
 ** _Are mine and mine alone_**  
 ** _My fingertips brush against your lips_**  
 ** _Take me to a dream where you and I_**  
 ** _Are you and I_**  
 ** _And the morning light does nothing to hide us_**  
 ** _Instead it nurtures us_**  
 ** _Take me to a dream where I'm not drowning_**  
 ** _Instead I fly_**  
 ** _Take me to a dream where I feel alive_**

**_Repetitive, I know. Some of you hated it so much that the moment you walked out of class you made a big show of ripping it up to pieces. But did you ever think about the person who wrote it? Did you, or your teachers even try to dissect my words properly? Did you even bother to read it? No. None of you did._**

When Dean first read the poem, he felt bad for the poor sap who wrote it. He felt sorry for the person. But not enough to care.

**_But it's not a big deal, is it?_ **

**_No, maybe not to you. But school hadn’t been a safe haven of mine for a long time. And after our little dispute, Gabriel, our home was no longer...a home either._ **

**_Now, suddenly, even my own thoughts were being offered up for ridicule._ **

**_For so long I've been sick of this town and everything in it, but poetry was something I could always come back to. Poetry urged me to believe that there was still something good with the world._ **

**_But because you, Ms. Barnes, decided to betray my trust, to leave me and my thoughts out in the open for everyone to take apart, I walked away from poetry._ **

**_I had no choice. Think about it, if you hear a song that makes you cry and you don’t want to cry anymore, you don’t listen to that song anymore. But you can’t get away from yourself. You can’t decide not to see yourself anymore. You can’t decide to turn off the noise in your head. I needed a break... from myself. So I stopped writing. I didn't want to know myself anymore._ **

**_Looking back, maybe it didn’t seem like a big deal to you, Ms. Barnes. But now, I hope you understand. My world was collapsing. I needed to believe that someone was out there who will listen. I needed any hope that there was someone I could trust with my thoughts._ **

**_And you? You took that hope away. You decided I didn’t deserve to have it._ **

**_Ms Barnes, you won’t send the tapes to Number Ten. He’s already had them. Send them to lovely Number Eleven on our list._ **

There is a pause, and Dean thinks the tape is over until Castiel speaks again, voice deeper and sadder than how it was a minute ago.

**_Oh, and Ms. Barnes? I’d really love to know if you managed to drag yourself to my funeral._ **

_No. Probably not. That's impossible._

**_Actually, I'd like to know if the rest of you managed to go too. Or if you were too scared that you might see the scars you left on me._ **

**_I wonder._ **

_She didn’t go to your funeral, Cas, because there’s wasn’t one._

There hadn’t been a funeral. As a matter of fact, there hadn’t been a body. A couple of days ago, Dean walked past Castiel's house to see it is up for sale. The Novak family just... Left. They disappeared without Dean knowing.

_Just like Cas._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely Petunias, how are you? I just want you to know that there are only five chapters left of 13RW (I know, :( my heart is breaking just thinking about it). But looking ahead, I absolutely have no idea what to write next. So if you like the way I write, and you would like to give me prompts or ideas on what my next fic should be about, FOLLOW ME ON TUMBLR at: http://like-a-paradigm.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> And send me prompts, ideas, asks, or anything you'd like me to write next. :) I would really appreciate it :)
> 
> Until next time! :)


	11. CASSETTE 5 (SIDE B)

"Dean?" Sam steps in front of him. "Dean, you've been staring at the Children's Section for like half an hour now."

"Oh. Uh, right. Sorry." Dean mumbles.

Dean scans the store. Its light blue walls are littered with posters, quotes, pictures of old men with beards and the occasional picture of J.K. Rowling. _Mostly old men though._ Walking further into the store, he brings his hand to run along the spines of books, mindlessly reading their titles, and pulls a blue hardback from the shelf and flips through it. 

"May I help you sir?"

A woman in her sixties (early seventies?) smiles at Dean while she replaces the books on the shelves. Sam shuffles over to help before Dean can even think to answer the question. 

"Uh, no, not really. My brother and I are just browsing."

"Alright," she turns back to her books but does a double take when she catches a glimpse of the object peeking out of Dean's pockets. "Is it the new craze with you teenagers nowadays?" She points at the Walkman. 

"Why, have you seen kids my age strolling in here with these things on too?" 

"Oh no," the old lady says, shaking her head. "I've only ever seen the Novak boy use one of those."

"Sorry, what?"

"Oh, I said the Novak boy. Now what was his name again? Let's see... Cat-something—"

"Castiel," Dean provides.

"Ah yes, Castiel. You've heard what happened to him, right?" Dean nods. He swallows thickly. "What a shame. He was such a lovely boy, though a bit on the quiet side. Always helped me out organizing all these books. Some days he even did jobs around the store without pay. Wouldn't accept the money, I tell you. All he wanted in exchange was this old audio tape recorder I had rotting in the storage room."

Dean stills. Sam looks at him wide eyed. "Oh."

"Yes! He was absolutely determined to get that thing." Her voice is full of pity. Dean doesn't want to hear it. Suddenly the woman shakes her head and smiles. "Well, I'll leave you boys to it then. Have a nice day."

Dean forces a smile back. _What the hell was that? So much for sympathy, lady._ He shares a look with Sam, and together they walk out of the store. He leans against the passenger side door and grabs the Walkman in his pocket. He turns the tape over and presses Play.

_**How are the books? Have you found one you're interested in reading? Well, it doesn't matter. You'll find something in the place we're going to.** _

_**If you take a look on your maps, there's a big star on A-1. That's right, children. We're going to the library.** _

Dean groans. _Seriously, Cas? First a bookstore, now a library? Couldn't you have chosen somewhere fun, like Plucky Pennywhistles (and Magical whatever) or something? Trust me, seeing Sammy cringe and hyperventilate near clowns is a lot better than the public library._

_**Once you get to the library I ask you to walk towards the back. To your right, there will be a table. Sit there. Then I want you to close your eyes, press Play and just... Listen. Rid yourself of any distractions and just listen to my voice. That's the only way we'll get through this tape. I have a lot to explain, and what I'm going to say will be hard for you as it is for me. Hence the isolated table. For the whole duration of this tape I want there to be no one else in the immediate vicinity save for you and me. You know, figuratively, of course.** _

_**Or maybe literally. When you get to the library, who knows? You might see me there. I might even sit beside you while you're listening.** _

_Shit, Cas. You don't just say things like that._

_**Apologies. That was quite cruel.** _

Sam raises his eyebrows at Dean. "Library?"

"Yeah." 

They drive to the library in silence. Dean has the tape on pause, but he just isn't in the mood for conversation. Sam makes no move to try and get Dean to talk. 

Once they're inside, Sam gestures to the other end of the library. Dean nods, understanding that he has to be alone for this one. He walks to the back of the library, slides into the seat closer to the wall, and presses play. At first, Dean hears no sound. He glances down at the Walkman on the table and makes sure that the Play button is pressed. It is. Dean turns the volume dial up, however the static hum of the headphones becomes too loud so he turns it back down. Confused, he hits Stop. Then Play again. Nothing. 

He waits.

_**Shh! if you're in a library.**_  
 _ **Shh! if you're in a classroom or in church.**_  
 _ **And shh, when you're all alone.**_

Castiel's voice was barely a whisper. Dean strains to listen closer.

_**There are times when we are required to be quiet. Maybe because we are told to, or maybe because it's our choice. But how do we know if we should keep quiet or if we should speak? How do we know if we should break the silence? How do we know if it's too late?** _

_**Kevin Tran. Welcome back.** _

_Not mine. This is another tape that won't have my name on it. Another story that I don't want to hear about._

_**How does it feel hearing your name a second time, Kevin? Is it easier? Or is it harder? I'm telling you now, this tape will not be as apologetic as the first one. So if you thought for a second that you were getting away that easy... Well, think again.** _

_**Sometimes, the smallest butterfly can cause the largest hurricane. And sometimes, silence is all it takes to smash someone to pieces.** _

_**I know that while you were listening to your tape—the first one—you were wishing that that was it. That I was not going to mention your name again. I can only imagine your surprise when you heard your story wasn't over. Because it isn't. It's far from over. We both know that.** _

_What happened between Kevin and Cas?_

_**Rationalize why this isn’t the tape you’re making a return appearance on. It must be a later tape. It has to be a later tape, right?** _

_**Oh, really?** _

_**Would you like that? Would a later tape make things better? Keep in mind, Kevin, after this tape there are only three stories left. I can assure you that you wouldn't want to be in any of them.** _

_But I am. I'm in one them, Cas! Just what did I do to you? What exactly are trying to do to me?_

_**You already knew that though, didn't you Kevin? You're an intelligent young man, I bet you've figured out why you're here.** _

_**Just like how you figured out I was there the night of the Winter Formal.** _

_Holy shit. What? How did...?_

_**I never did get to ask how you knew. Maybe because I wasn't nearly as hidden behind the bleachers as I thought I was, or maybe it was the look on my face whenever you walked past me in school. In the end it didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that the mistakes I made came back to haunt me... In the most painful way.** _

_**After Ms. Barnes, I stopped speaking to people. The already little trust I had towards people had been destroyed. I became guarded—more than I already was—and buried myself deeper in books. I didn't talk in school anymore. I didn't try in school anymore. Especially not in your class, Ms. Barnes. Trust me, I learned my lesson.** _

_**I didn't walk around town anymore. After school I'd go straight home, and on the weekends I would either lie in bed or read. It was during these quiet moments that I realized... The library. It's not like anyone from school ever goes there.** _

_Ouch, Cas._ Dean thinks. _I'm offended. I've been to the library more than a couple of times. Okay, I've only been here once._

_**I'd walk to the library after school, and I'd read all the books I wanted, checking out the ones I wished to re-read. For a while I felt at ease.** _

_**But it seems Fate didn't want me feeling that way for too long.** _

_**Because at the back of the library to your right, there was a table placed by the corner. It was partially hidden from everyone else. And on that table sat Mr. Kevin Tran.** _

_**The boy I left for dead almost a year ago.** _

_**You looked so small and fragile sitting alone, that I couldn't stop myself from walking over and sitting across from you. You looked up but you didn't comment.** _

_**To those of you who didn't know, for the past year the student body avoided Kevin like the plague, like he was branded, sort of like an 'associate with him and you get hurt' brand.** _

_**I don't really know what happened during the Winter Formal, Kevin, but from the way you were treated by everyone including the guys who hurt you, it must have been a big deal. Your friends started avoiding you, and whenever someone would try and speak to you, they would immediately be teased by those guys.** _

_**It was like we were back in elementary, because of the immaturity of it all. Only, the kids in high school are more aggressive. More cunning. They all know the right words that will effortlessly cut through you.** _

_**What happened, Kevin? What did you to them that was so worthy of being bullied to the degree you've had to undergo?** _

_**You lost all of your friends and your grades have slipped. Recently I heard that your parents had a divorce, leaving you to live with your mother, who is currently ill.** _

_**What did you do to deserve that?** _

_**I saw myself in you. Not because of the horrible things that had happened in your life but because I saw the resignation on your face. You stopped trying a long time ago. You knew nothing was going to change, no matter how much you wished for it. Just like me. So I understood you.** _

_**You didn't see it that way though. All you saw in me was the guy who didn't save you when he could have. You told me so yourself.** _

_**Your little outburst happened after it had become a habit of mine to sit on your table every time I was at the library. You were quiet at first, but after two weeks of letting me sit near you, I suppose you couldn't hold back any longer.** _

_**You suddenly snapped your book shut and said, "Is it because of guilt? Are you trying to keep me company because you think it's going to make up for me losing everything?" You looked at me then, with tears in your eyes. "Are you trying give me that I'm-here-for-you-when-you're-alone bullcrap because you think it's just going to undo what you did? Or should I say what you didn't do. Because I'm telling you, Castiel, it won't. So just give up."** _

_**I didn't know what to say. I couldn't argue. How could I? You were right. I could have done something to help you. I could have said something to save you but I didn't.** _

_**All this time I'd been wishing for someone to speak up for me, to help me, when I was too afraid do it for someone else. I expected someone to rescue me, but when I was given the opportunity to rescue Kevin, I ran away. I was being a hypocrite. And it was cruel of me.** _

There is a pause. Dean can hear Castiel's steady breaths above the faint static of the tape.

_**So I’m not running away anymore. I'm asking—no, telling—all of you that Kevin needs help. He needs help more than I ever did. He deserves it more than I ever did. He's still got a chance at being alright again. At getting his friends back, at being happy again. He’s still got a chance at living, whereas I’m past the point of no return. So help him, please. Do it for me.** _

Dean stands and the chair scrapes along the floor, the sound of it too loud for his ears. He stalks out of the library and sits down on the curb of a quiet intersection.

_**I rushed out of the library after you said that. I didn't look back, and I didn't go back there ever again. I lost my last safe haven. I didn't have anywhere else to go. And in the end, it was my fault.** _

_It wasn't your fault, Cas. None of it is._

_**Your words cut like knives, Kevin, because they were the truth. And they didn't leave me alone. I heard your voice everywhere. My house. My bedroom. Whenever I was alone, all I heard was you telling me that there's nothing I could do to fix what I did.** _

_**Soon enough, the guilt I'd buried all those months ago rose to the surface and it ate me alive. It got to the point where I couldn't be in the same room as you in school. I wanted to flee whenever I saw you. And I did. I ran as fast as I could in the other direction whenever you were near. But like I said, your words never left me.** _

_**And because of that.. I gave up. I didn't want to be here anymore. I wanted everything to stop. If you were needing an exact point where Castiel Novak thought about suicide? This is where you mark the x on your time lines.** _

The anger, the blame, it’s all gone. His mind is made up. Castiel just sounded tired.

_**After every story I've told on these tapes, after every bad thing that occurred, I thought about suicide. In the beginning, they were only just passing thoughts. However after my fight with Gabriel, the thoughts progressively grew stronger. Fiercer.** _

_**I wish I would die.** _

_**I’ve thought those words many times. Over and over again. But it’s a hard thing to say out loud. It’s even scarier to feel you might mean it.** _

_**Sometimes I would tuck myself into bed and pray that I don't wake up. That way would be easier, but those prayers never came true. So I decided to take the matter into my own hands.** _

_**I wondered how I would do it. I would lie awake on most nights and wonder if there was anything in the house I could use. A gun? No. We never owned one. If I ever did find a gun, it would be too messy. I wouldn't want to be painted on the walls.** _

Dean cringes. 

_**Then I considered hanging. Well, what would I use to make sure I'd die? Plus, I didn't want to be found swinging inches from the floor. I didn't want to be remembered that way.** _

_Stop, I don't want to hear this anymore. Please. End this tape now._

_**It came down to what I thought was the least painful way possible.** _

_No._

_**Pills.**_

Dean's head swims. He places his head between his knees. He wants to vomit. He wants to cry. He wants Cas to come back. Dean realizes that throughout the tapes, those three things have been the only thoughts running through his head. 

_**But what kind of pills? And how many? I’m not sure.**_

_Stop. Please, Cas. Just stop._ A hand rubs circles on his back. Sam. Dean breathes hard. _I don't want to know._

_**Do you know what happened? Did you hear about how I did it? How it happened, was it dull?**_

_One of the rumors circulating says that your dad came home, found the bathroom flooded, and called your name. But there was no answer. The ambulance came fifteen minutes later. There are many more, Cas, but none I want to think about._

_**But then again, I'm already dead. Your opinions aren't important to me anymore. I am doing this—all of this—for me. I'm giving up for my sake.**_

Dean wraps his arms tighter around his legs. 

_**I'm going to plan this out. And I have to do it quick, because I don’t have much time. Two weeks. That's all the time I'm giving myself to decide. After that, I don't think I'll ever get an opportunity to carry this out. Because exactly two weeks from now, my father will return from his trip. I have to do it before then. I have to be... gone by then.**_

_**Wow.**_

_**Two weeks from now... I won’t be around anymore. No more Castiel Novak from Pontiac, Illinois.**_

Dean asks for the time. Sam whispers a reply. Two o' clock. _Is it already afternoon? How did time fly by that fast?_ He looks around him. The houses lined up along the connecting three blocks seem peaceful. A few windows are open, the curtains that hang inside sway from the light breeze. Some of the residents are outside. Dean spots a couple of men drinking what seems to be cold beer and an old woman knitting in her chair. Everything and everyone looked so content. Dean resents them. 

_**Two weeks from now I’m waking up, I’m getting dressed, and I’m walking to the post office. There, I’ll mail a bunch of tapes to Pontiac, to be received by Meg Masters. And after that, there’s no turning back. I’ll walk to school—too late for first period—and we’ll have one last day together. The only difference being that I’ll know it’s the last day. You won’t.** _

Dean hears Castiel take a big breath. _Can I remember? Can I see Cas in the school halls on that last day? I want to remember the very last time I saw him. I have to._

_**You’ll treat me how you’ve always treated me. Do you remember the last thing you said to me?**_

_I do. I called your name. You didn't even look at me._

_**The last thing you did to me?**_

_I ran after you. You must have noticed because you only walked faster. I caught your shoulder and you stopped. You turned around and I smiled at you, I'm sure of it. I'm sure because you couldn't help but smile back, Cas._

_**And what was the last thing I said to you? Because trust me, when I said it, I knew it was the last thing I’d ever say.**_

_You said you were sorry, Cas._

_At that time I thought it was because of what happened That Night, but I'm starting to think it's more than that. I'm beginning to understand now, Cas._

_And I'm sorry too._


	12. CASSETTE 6 (SIDE A)

Sam and Dean walk silently back to the library, but instead of going in, Dean drops down on the stairs. Sam sits down next to him.

**_Just three more stories to go. Don't give up on me now._ **

**_I'm sorry, that was quite hypocritical of me, wasn't it? Because that's exactly what I'm doing. Giving up._ **

**_I suppose, that's what all of this comes down to. Me…giving up…on me. No matter what I’ve said so far, no matter who I’ve spoken of, it all comes back to—it all ends with—me. Well technically, me and Number Thirteen but never mind that for the time being. I need to tell you this story for Number Thirteen's tape to make sense. Like I said, everything affects everything._ **

**_And guess what? Thinking back on it now, it just so happens that the events that occurred in this story all winds back to Meg Masters. Yes, Meg. This entire story goes back to that rumor you spread in Pontiac. The rumor that Ruby helped grow into something uncontrollable. Irreversible. The rumor that Charlie didn't put a stop to. The rumor that you all believed. Nothing in this tape would have happened had Meg not spread that rumor of me._ **

**_As always, you're probably asking: What is this event silly old Castiel is talking about?_ **

**_But first, I have to give you a little background story._ **

**_I am going to take you back to the third week of senior year. Merely two months ago._ **

Without realizing it, Dean has listened to three years of Castiel's life in less than half a day. Listened to three years of Castiel slowly losing hope.

**_I was sitting in a secluded spot near the school by myself. Initially this place was a secret. Only me and one other person know about it. And I wanted it to stay that way until Number Eleven showed up._ **

_I know where that is. Cas and I ate lunch together there once after I stumbled upon him sitting alone._

_Actually, I saw Cas walking by himself so I decided to follow him. It was something a stalker would do, really, but at that point all I wanted was to talk to Cas again. I waited a couple of minutes after he sat down, then I nonchalantly (I think) walked over and sat down next to him._

_Of course I asked if it was alright to eat lunch with him, moving to get up if he wanted to be alone (I prayed to God he didn't find me to be a bother, otherwise I would have been hella sad), but thankfully Castiel was okay with it._

_"Sure. I'd love for you stay." He said._

_God, I was so happy._

**_Should I tell you who he is? Maybe you'll understand better if I tell you._ **

_Is it me? Is this finally my tape? I was with Castiel there, around the time he said Number Eleven did. I 'showed up' next to him. This is mine._

_But I hope it isn't. It's one thing to want to get it over with, and another thing when it's actually happening. I don't want to know what I did to Cas. It sounds ridiculous, but I don't want to hear my name yet._

**_Balthazar._ **

_God, no. This can only end one way. If anyone can shovel more shit onto Castiel's life, it’s Balthazar._

**_I noticed you were staring, but I ignored your presence in spite of the fact that it made me uncomfortable. I didn't know who you were back then, I thought you were there just because you wanted some peace and quiet. When I was finished eating, I stood to walk back to the school building but you stopped me._ **

**_“Hey!” you said. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”_ **

**_I was confused. I'd never seen you around school so I was sure you were never an acquaintance of mine. I turned around. “Why?”_ **

**_“Because I'm new and as proof of school hospitality you're meant to say hello and ask me how I'm liking Lawrence so far.”_ **

**_"I can't prove something that I know does not exist." I said._ **

**_You laughed. You introduced yourself to be Balthazar, and out of respect I introduced myself as well. It was awkward at first, but when you commented on Mr Crowley's mildly inappropriate European History class, or the number of females who wore short skirts in our high school—I don't quite remember—our conversation took off from there._ **

**_The same thing happened for a few more weeks after this first conversation: I'd eat lunch on the usual spot, Balthazar would appear out of nowhere, make an off-hand comment and we'd talk until it's time for class. It became habitual._ **

_I never saw them together. Did they become friends?_

We were never friends, just to make things clear. I found him to be more arrogant than anything. He was sly. I didn't trust him. I'd seen and heard enough about him around school to know that he goes through girls and boys alike as though they were used underwear. I heard a rumor that he'd already slept with half of the student body even though he'd only been in Lawrence for a short length of time.

It wasn't exactly a rumor when it actually did happen. Dean once caught Balthazar and two freshmen getting it on in the school infirmary. It was scarring to say the least.

**_But knowing who he was did not stop me from letting the events of this tape occur._ **

_What are you talking about, Cas?_

Castiel huffs a laugh.

**_Balthazar, you asked for my number exactly like someone would if they were asking for the time. It was trivial. You've done it before. You didn't care whether you got it or not, and I suppose that was why I gave it to you. I wanted to seem like I didn't care either._ **

_Castiel gave his number to Balthazar?_ Dean tries his hardest not to feel jealous of that smarmy asshole.

**_Nothing happened after that. You didn't call me. You didn't text me. I almost forgot I gave it out until you sent me a message inviting me to a party held at your house. I declined. My excuse was that I didn't want to be stuck in a room full of people who blatantly show their disgust of me every single day. You thought I was joking, so you laughed and said there would only be a handful of students from our school who were going, and that most of the attendees would be strangers._ **

Dean didn't go to that party. He opted to spend the night with Sam and his dad, something his mom referred to as "father-and-sons-bonding-time".

**_Obviously, I didn't intend to go. I didn't want to relive the last time I was at a party. I didn't want to relive being in that closet, hearing the bass pumping and the bed creaking and my heart drumming. I didn't want any of that. I wanted to be as far away from any type of social gathering whatsoever._ **

_So why did you say yes?_

**_But I've given up, remember? Nothing matters anymore. I told Balthazar I was going._ **

**_Which brings us to two weeks before I started recording these tapes. The weekend when everything happened. The weekend when I finally let go._ **

_Let go? That couldn't possibly mean—_

**_I knew exactly what I was doing, what I was getting myself into. But I didn't care._ **

**_I just wanted to feel good again._ **

_What—?_

**_On top of that, I wanted to see if the rumors really were true. That I would sleep with anyone who was willing._ **

_Fuck. No Cas, please tell me you didn't._

**_I went to the party alone. I had planned on meeting a complete stranger—hoping to spend the night with someone who didn't recognize me, but I hadn't planned on the possibility of this 'someone' being you, Balthazar._ **

_What the hell did Castiel just say?_

**_The moment I got there, you led me around the house, introducing me to almost everybody. The whole time you had an arm around my shoulder._ **

Dean feels a twinge of envy. _No. Cas isn't mine. He was never mine._

**_You then took me to a bedroom—yours, I presume—and in it was none other than Ruby. I experienced the sudden urge to leave._ **

**_"Castiel," Ruby said. "Hello sweetheart."_ **

_Oh no. Everyone knows Balthazar and Ruby are a bad combination. Warning signs should have been going off in your head, Cas!_ Although, if Dean really thinks about it, he knows that that was the point. Castiel was chasing danger. He wanted to feel alive. 

**_I wasn’t expecting Ruby to act polite towards me. It was unsettling. She acted as though we've been friends for a long time. I knew it was all a façade, but I didn't call her out on it. I was too tired to._ **

**_I also was not expecting Balthazar to flirt with me. I wasn't expecting Balthazar to scoot closer to me until our sides were pressed against each other. I wasn't expecting Balthazar to repeatedly whisper nothings in my ear, and for me to whisper back, until we had our own quiet conversation._ **

Dean breathes hard. _Dammit._

**_Ruby cleared her throat. Balthazar looked up and they both share a look I couldn't recognize._ **

**_Ruby stood and walked out of the room. You proposed to move the conversation to the bed. By then I'd caught up with what was happening._ **

**_I figured out what you meant to do—what you wanted to happen next—and I agreed._ **

Dean grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. He fists his hair and rests his forehead on his knees. 

****_Something flashed in your eyes, like me saying yes was all the consent you needed to do what you did next._ ** **

****_You leaned over and you kissed me._ ** **

****_Now I'd like to say that it stopped there, but it didn't._ ** **

****_You gripped my shirt and tugged me closer. You held my jaw in one of your hands, clasping, forcing your tongue in my mouth. I didn't kiss back, and I didn't think you cared because you looped your arm around my back to pull me up. You pushed me—step by step—to your bed until I lost my balance when the back of knees hit the foot of your bed._ ** **

****_I groaned from the pain. You lifted your head for just a second, as if making sure I was still alive. I forced myself to nod. And then you were back again. Your hands and your lips were everywhere. You shoved your hands underneath my shirt and pulled it off of me. When I didn't protest, you took yours off too._ ** **

****_You smirked at me, and I felt sick. I forced myself to bear it._ ** **

_I will kill you, Balthazar. The next time I see you I will murder you._

****_You kissed me again, and that's when I felt your hand slip inside my jeans. I must have froze, because your hand stilled and you told me to relax._ ** **

****_“Just relax, Cassie,” you said. “Everything will be okay.” As if letting you stroke me was going to cure all my problems._ ** **

****_But still, I nodded and let you. You slid my pants off and then yours. You told me to lie down and stay still. Reaching over to your drawer, you pulled out a small bottle and foil wrappers._ ** **

Dean is shaking from anger now. _No, Cas. Tell him to stop!_ He punches the concrete ground.

****_Before I could say anything, it was already happening. In and out. In and out. Again and again._ ** **

****_Sorry, is this too graphic for some of you? Well tough luck._ ** **

****_I turned my head, clenched my teeth and fought back tears. You must have noticed something was wrong, Balthazar. You had to see my jaw clench. You had to see the tears. Does that kind of shit turn you on?_ ** **

_Balthazar? I wouldn't put it past him._

****_But no matter how disgusted I felt, I needed this. So then, just like that, I let go. My shoulders went limp, my legs fell apart and I let you do whatever you wanted._ ** **

****_You were touching me… but I was using you. I needed you, Balthazar, so I could let go of me, completely._ ** **

****_Let me be clear, ladies and gentlemen, I never told Balthazar to stop. I never said ‘no’. But I didn't say ‘yes’ either._ ** **

****_Not once had I let my reputation become who I was. I would take all the rumors, all the bad things you put me through, and I had never let it dictate what I did. Not once had I given in to the reputation Meg Masters had set for me. That is, until now._ ** **

****_So congratulations, Balthazar. You’re the big winner. I let my reputation catch up with me—with you. How does it feel?_ ** **

_I want to break his nose._

****_Once you were done, I gathered up my clothes and left. I went home to an empty house._ ** **

****_The night was over. I was done._ ** **

****_For the longest time, I've felt as though I was the only one who cared about me. My parents were almost nonexistent. My own brother despised me. The first girl I've ever had romantic feelings for, took all those feelings and threw them back in my face. The first person I've ever trusted in Lawrence used me, then walked away when I needed her most._ ** **

****_Are you getting it now? Do you understand why I'm doing this?_ ** **

****_Have one person pick on you for absolutely no reason at all, then stand by—unable to do anything—as they proceed to spread lies about you. Have someone steal your innermost thoughts and then publish them for the whole world to see._ ** **

Castiel pauses. When he returns he sounds dejected, weary.

****_It seemed that every time someone offered me a hand up, they just let go and I slip further down. So I stopped asking for help. I stopped trying to reaching out. I stopped trying to make myself believe everything will get better... because it never will._ ** **

****_I stopped trying._ ** **

"What are you doing?"

Dean moves to a trash can. "What does it _look_ like I'm doing? I'm throwing them away. I'm done." Sam grabs Dean's arm. Dean snaps his arm away from his brother.

"But—"

"Go public with the tapes. Play them to the whole school. Do whatever the hell you want with them. I don't care."

"Dean, please. You have to listen to the next tape."

"Why the fuck should I do that, huh Sam?" Dean spits out angrily. " _Why?_ To listen to tapes like Balthazar's and Jessica's and then pretend like nothing's wrong? I can't, Sam. I just—I can't." Then in a smaller voice Dean asks, "Why should I keep listening if it's just going to hurt me?"

"Because you have to know, Dean. You have to listen because you have to know. Castiel wants you to know." Sam lets his head drop. His hair falls on his eyes, and Dean can't see it, but he knows that Sam is sporting a kicked puppy expression right now. But Dean won't let himself be swayed.

"Yeah?" Dean laughs sarcastically. "Is that one of your philosophical bullshit, or did Cas say that himself?"

"He did, actually." Sam replies in a whisper. "He said it in the next tape."

"What?"

"The next tape." Sam repeats, looking straight at Dean's eyes. "It's yours. The next tape is about you, Dean."

Without breaking eye contact with his brother, Dean opens the Walkman and flips the tape, B-side out. His fingers tremble as he inserts the tape back into the device.

Dean presses Play.


	13. CASSETTE 6 (SIDE B)

**_Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou, Romeo?_ **

Castiel chuckles, like what he just said is a hilarious inside joke only he knows. _This is how my story begins. This tape will tell me how I helped push Cas to the edge._

**_I suppose that makes me Juliet, then._ **

_What?_

**_But you should know upfront, unlike Romeo and Juliet, this is not a love story. This is a story about love._ **

_Love? How is my story about love?_

**_This whole time, I've been lying to all of you. I know I made it sound like it, but I wasn’t completely alone the whole of my high school career. There was a very important person, a constant presence in my life that I took for granted. I had a friend. Remember the friend I told you about in Jessica's tape? Remember the person who left a bit too early? Yes, I'm talking about him._ **

Dean could be wrong, but he swears Castiel sounds happy. 

**_Dean Winchester._ **

**_Most days of the year are ordinary... formulaic. There's a beginning, and there's an end. Most of the time there isn't a memorable in-between. Most days, we go through the motions. But there are some days that leave a lasting impression. Days that have the most impact in our lives. The nineteenth of October was a Saturday._ **

_Of course. Of course Castiel would talk about That Night. Why wouldn't he? For me, that night two weeks ago was when I thought things would change between him and I. I was wrong._

_Castiel took his own life a week later. And then, a week after that, I'm listening to his suicide tapes._

**_After what happened with Balthazar, I was over. I was done. I decided to spend my last weeks taking things slow. I spent less time thinking about school and more time spent on wondering about how I would say goodbye—if there was anyone I thought needed to hear a goodbye from me. I produced a list of the people I wished to send letters to. It ended up being a list of three. My father was first, and I thought to write Gabriel one as well, despite what happened between us. He was my brother, he deserved a form of goodbye. And then there was Dean._ **

**_I was never sure if I should write him a letter. I felt as though if I didn't, it was like I cheated him somehow. But, if I did write him a letter, I wouldn't know what to say. Or rather I was afraid I'd say too much._ **

**_These were the thoughts running through my head that Saturday morning. I wasn't fully conscious, drifting in and out of sleep every five minutes. Every now and then I'd hear the whoosh of a car as it passed, or a dog barking at an unknown passerby. It was peaceful, believe it or not._ **

**_However when I heard the low rumble of an engine followed by the crunch of gravel and the unmistakable sound of tires rolling slowly on the pavement, I idly wondered how freeing it would be if I had a car. I'd probably be miles away by now, not even bothering to look back._ **

**_Then came the loud raps on my window that jerked me from my thoughts and jolted me awake. I sat up and listened. One. Two. Someone was throwing rocks at my window._ **

Dean smiles.

**_I rushed to my window, pushed the curtains aside, and opened it to find Dean standing below my balcony. He grinned and cleared his throat as he saw me walk out onto the platform before saying, "But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Castiel is the sun!"_ **

Castiel laughs. A genuine, happy laugh. It's the first time he's heard Cas laugh like that in these tapes.

But man, does Dean feel embarrassing. 

He feels his cheeks redden. He can't believe he said that. Now there's twelve other people who knows he said that, including Sam. It was a complete spur-of-the-moment thing, and it sounded way less dumber in his head. He slaps his hand on his forehead. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees Sam smirk and try to stifle back his laughter.

"Ha-ha. Laugh all you want, bitch. But don't start complaining if I told that Madison girl you write love poems about the her hair that _'falls immaculately on her delicate shoulders._ " 

Sam's eyes widen. It is his turn to blush as he busies himself with the laces of his shoe.

**_I refrained myself from reciting the answering lines and instead asked why you were outside my house at quarter past six in the morning._ **

**_You said, "You seem kind of down in the dumps lately so I, amazing friend that I am, decided take you on a joyride. Plus, what's the point in having a car like mine if I don't get to show her off to everybody?"_ **

**_I stood there for a while, not sure what to do. Then you told me to hurry up or else you'd drag me out of the house yourself. I hurriedly washed my face and got dressed. I ran out of the house feeling more excited than I'd ever been. It was wonderful._ **

**_When I opened the door, you were leaning against your Chevy Impala. You smiled at me. And I couldn't—I never could—help but smile back. I never told you this, but I took a picture of you with my mind. For what? I don't know._ **

**_You asked, "how are the birds?"_ **

**_I said, "What?"_ **

**_"The birds," you said. "The ones you're keeping in that birds' nest hair of yours?"_ **

**_I narrowed my eyes at you and climbed into your car. You kept laughing, and soon enough I started laughing too._**

Dean snorts and feels a wave of nostalgia hit him. For Dean, that day was the day he saw a different Cas. A more laid-back, happy Cas. It was like the wall of distance Cas built to keep him—and everybody else—out suddenly disappeared and Dean thought, for the first time, Cas was starting to open up to him. 

**_We first drove to the hill which overlooks most of Lawrence. To those of you who are able, go to C-12 on your maps. Fear not, it's not a big climb. Once you've reached the top, find the lone bench by the tree and sit down. Look around, take a big breath and press play._ **

Dean presses pause on the tape. Walking to the car, he ignores Sam's sympathetic _I'm-here-for-you_ face, which is getting to be too much for Dean. 

They got there in record time, and Dean almost congratulates Sam for what probably was his first time over-speeding, if only Dean isn't feeling so drained at the moment. Dean hurries to the top and plops down on the bench and _there it is, the feeling of nostalgia again._ He wills himself not to break down right then and there, knowing it's stupid to cry over this now. Too stupid to cry over hills and picnics and sunrises and Cas because it won't bring them back. 

He takes a deep breath. Sam sits down next to him, quiet. Patient. 

**_It's beautiful, isn't it? That time with Dean was the first time I've ever been there. It was the first time I saw Lawrence in such a different light. There was something about observing the place you've been living in while it was sleeping, while there were no sounds of horns honking and children screaming and all you could hear were the birds chirping and the breeze rustling the trees._ **

**_"What are we doing here?" I said._ **

**_You replied, "We're watching the sunrise, Cas, what's it look like we're doing?" You smiled._ **

**_We sat in silence for about half an hour. It wasn't the least bit awkward. It was a comforting silence. We sat watching the pale pinks and reds and yellows blend with the light blue sky. On that hill at seven in the morning... Dean, there wasn't anywhere in the world I'd rather be._ **

_Me too, Cas._

**_Then the sun rose and you grinned, whooping with laughter and I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. I couldn't remove the smile on my face even if I tried. I turned to watch the sun peek out from the horizon and my breath was taken away._ **

**_For a second, I felt as though that moment was something worth living for. That moment on the bench watching the sunrise with you, was something I considered as precious, something I knew I would miss, if I were to leave._ **

**_And so right now, I'm sitting on the same bench trying to relive that moment. Trying to feel that spark of life I felt in me when I was here with you. But there's nothing. I'm sitting on the same bench, at around the same time, watching the same sun rise from the same horizon, but I feel nothing._ **

**_Why?_ **

_You tell me, Cas._

**_I don't know. Well, I do. But that comes later._ **

_What?_

**_Let's get back to the story._ **

_Get on with it, Cas._

**_After witnessing the sunrise, we stopped for breakfast at the Roadhouse Diner and then drove far away from Lawrence. We went everywhere, you and I. I didn't take notice of the places we went to, all I thought was how free I felt when I was with you. You made me feel alive, Dean. You let me live even for just one more day._ **

_I didn't know what I was doing. If I did I would have done a lot of things different._

**_We went to an amusement park and then watched a movie afterwards. We even went fishing, which I'd never done before. You were unnaturally skillful at it. I ended up surrendering altogether and just talking to you as we waited for the fish to take your bait. As the day neared its end and we were driving back to Lawrence, you jokingly offered to take me to a brothel—and then laughed at my shocked reaction._ **

**_It was perfect._ **

**_You drove us back to the hill, because you said you wanted to see the sun set. I didn't mind. Anything to prolong our day together._ **

Dean feels an painful twist in his heart.

**_We sat here, at the same bench, once again. There we were, with your arm thrown over my shoulder and me smiling like it was Christmas. We talked about everything and nothing. You let me connect with you. You made me laugh, you confused me, you understood me. You were exactly what I needed, Dean._ **

**_So I kissed you._ **

_No, I kissed you, Cas._

**_It was slow, and sweet, and long. And what did you say when we came up for air? With the most charming, most breath-taking smile possible you asked, "What was that for?"_ **

_Right. You kissed me._

**_To which I said, "You are such an idiot, Dean Winchester." And we kissed some more._ **

_Right. I remember that too._

**_To be honest, there was never a point where I looked at Dean and I said to myself, "Dean Winchester... he’s the one." Because he wasn't. I didn't know enough of Dean to think of him as such. And I knew I was never that for him as well._ **

_No, you weren't, but you could have been. If you had just let it, Cas, you would have been._

**_Remember what I said at the beginning of this tape? I said this isn't a love story. However, this is a story about love._ **

**_Because yes, I did. I fell in love with you, Dean Winchester._ **

**_And I am so so sorry._ **

_No, please no._ Dean bites on his knuckles to stop himself from screaming. He squeezes his eyes shut to stop the world from spinning beneath the ground.

**_I should have stopped it then, but I didn't. When we kissed, everything was wonderful. I forgot what I had planned to do, all I thought of was the both of us sitting on the bench, your arms around my waist, my fingers curling over the back of your head, trying to pull you closer. And speaking for myself, I wanted more._ **

**_But that's when I thought of you, Meg, and how after our first kiss you decided to ruin me. I thought of the times when I felt like I had something precious, only to have it ripped away from right under my feet. And then names began to flood my head—everyone and everything up to that night. I tried to shut them out, however they wouldn’t go away._ **

**_There were just so many, Dean. Three dozen at least. Dozens of names that will never be mentioned in these tapes. Secrets that will never come to light._ **

**_“Stop,” I said. My hands stopped moving, and I stopped pulling you closer._ **

_You pushed your hands against my chest._

**_"Stop," I repeated. This time I did push you away._ **

_My back hit the bench. I remember that._

**_I shut my eyes so tight it was painful. I tried to push away all that I was seeing in my head. It didn’t work—I kept seeing names, incidents, connections. It made me dizzy._ **

_I was so worried._

**_You started to talk, started to ask me what was wrong but I couldn't tell you, not then. It was too soon._ **

**_Or maybe it was already too late._ **

**_I moved away when you tried to comfort me. I shook my head and I stood. You reached for my hand._ **

**_"Cas, I can help. Whatever it is you're feeling, whatever it is you're going through, we can fix it. But you've got to tell me what's wrong." You said._ **

_I meant every word, Cas. If you told me what you were going through, I would have done everything I could to help._

**_Dean, I wish it were that easy. But you have to realize that it's not broken. I'm not broken. You can't break what was never whole in the first place._ **

Castiel sounded sad, apologetic. Like he wanted Dean to understand that what happened wasn't his fault. _But it is, I could have saved him._

**_I screamed for you to let me go. It took a while for you to realize I was serious and when you did, you loosened your grip and pulled your hand back._ **

_I was waiting for you to say it was all a joke. I was waiting for you to say "stop" again. To stop me from letting you walk away. But it never came. So I let you go._

_I shouldn't have. Why did I?_

**_You whispered, "Come on, I'll take you home."_ **

**_Then you drove me home, and we never spoke again. You tried to catch my eye whenever we'd walk past each other in school but I wouldn't look at you. You never stopped trying though. You never stopped wanting an explanation._ **

**_So here it is._ **

**_Dean, you are not meant to be on these tapes. You never did anything to hurt me. You did the exact opposite. You're here because I had to tell you. I had to apologize—to explain why I pushed you away. I had to let you know why I did what I did._ **

**_You have to know why I let you drive away when all I wanted was to be with you._ **

_I was so sure you hated me. That I somehow pushed things too far with that kiss._

_Why did I listen? Why did I leave him there? He needed me, and I knew that._

**_But I was scared. Once again, I let myself get scared. And I let you drive away._ **

**_Dean, this tape isn't about the what-ifs and the what-could-have beens in our relationship. Obviously, it hurts too much to think about that. No, this tape is about me needing to explain everything that happened. Not only to you, Dean, but to all of you._ **

**_Everything affects everything, remember?_ **

**_I recorded these tapes to make you listen, otherwise you'll keep doing what you're doing, pushing someone past their breaking point._ **

**_Dean, your story ends here. But if it's worth anything, I wish things were different between us. You would always be that someone I could have had a... See, I don't know. And that's what I regret, most of all. That I'll never know what could have happened if I didn't push you away that night._ **

**_We were so close, Dean._ **

**_And for that, I'm sorry._ **

The tape whirrs into silence. Dean rubs at the tears in his eyes. 

“Are you going to be okay?” Sam asks, softly.

Dean shakes his head no. “I miss him.” 

"I know." 

Dean closes his eyes. He thinks of never-ending blue and smiles and Cas. “I love him, Sam, and I never told him. I love him and he's gone."


	14. CASSETTE 7 (SIDE A)

Sam and Dean stay on the bench until the sun starts to set. Neither one wants to rush the other: Sam wants Dean to collect his thoughts, to gather enough strength to pull through for one more tape. Whereas Dean wants to wait, see if any minute now he'll wake up and realize he'd been dreaming, and Cas is still alive. Because Cas being gone just seems so surreal. Sitting there on the bench, it hits Dean that he never really got the chance to mourn Cas. It hits him how recent his death was. _A week ago he sat where I'm sitting. Throughout the tapes we walked the same roads, saw the same buildings... felt the same way. Shoot everything to hell, that's fine, but at least I got to share this with Cas._

"Do you want to stay here?" Sam asks, gently. "For the last tape."

Dean nods. 

"Okay." Sam says, smiling a lopsided smile. "Do you want me to grab you some food while you're listening? You haven't eaten anything since this morning."

"I'm fine."

"Funny joke, Dean." Sam stands up. "I'll go and get you something. Don't leave before I come back okay?"

Dean nods.

He doesn't turn to see his younger brother walk away. Instead his eyes are fixed on the last tape on his hand, tape number seven. _The last tape._ Dean takes a shaky breath. _Looks like I'm going to have to listen to this alone._ Replacing the previous tape in the player, he snaps the Walkman shut and closes his eyes. He presses Play. _Let's do this, Cas._

_One last time._

**_One…last…try._ **

_Cas is whispering. The recorder is close to his mouth and with each break in his words, I can hear him breathe._

**_I’m giving life one more chance. And this time, I’m getting help. I need someone who can look at me in the eye and tell me I can fix this. I’m asking for help because I cannot do this alone. I’ve tried that._ **

_You weren't alone, though. I was there. I've always been there. You just weren't looking._

**_Of course, if you’re listening to this, I failed. Or he failed. And if he fails, the deal is sealed. If he doesn't, then I'm going to get the help I need, and so I will be destroying these tapes because I won't need them anymore._ **

Dean's throat tightens, and he grips the metal arm of the bench so hard it digs into his palm.

**_When you look at it that way, only one person stands between you and this collection of audiotapes: Mr. Singer._ **

_No! Not Bobby. Cas, he cannot know about this. I see the man every day. On top of that, he and my dad are close friends--close enough to be considered as brothers. Mr. Singer—Bobby—is close enough to our family for me to call him my second Dad. Why are you telling him? I do not want Bobby to know. Not about me. Not about anyone._ To bring an adult—never mind a teacher from school—into this, is beyond what Dean imagined.

**_I've grown to like Mr Singer. He was fair and honest. He's the only teacher who seemed to value my opinion and would often sound genuinely concerned whenever he'd ask how I was. So really, he's my only option._ **

**_Mr. Singer, let’s see how you do._ **

The sound of rustling comes through the tape, followed by a zipper passing through the grooved metal edges. From the sounds of it, Castiel is shoving the recorder into something. His backpack? A jacket?

Castiel knocks.

And knocks again.

**_Hello, Mr. Singer. May I speak to you for a moment?_ **

**_—Sure Castiel. Sit down._ **

There is a muffled sound of footsteps. Then silence.

**_Thank you._ **

**_—So, what's rolling around in your grapefruit?_ **

A pause. _Cas probably didn't know what that meant._

**_—I meant, what's on your mind? What can I help you with?_ **

That's Bobby alright. His voice is gruff and warm.

**_Well, uh... I don’t know. Everything, I guess._ **

**_—That's going to take a while, don't you think?_ **

A pause. 

**_I'm sorry I just... I'm sorry._ **

**_—It's okay, Castiel. Take as much time as you need. I'm here._ **

_Stay with him, Bobby. Listen to what he has to say._ It's ridiculous. Dean is mindlessly hoping that Bobby will somehow manage to succeed in helping Castiel, hoping that the outcome will be different. _It won't be, you know that. The tapes you're holding are proof of that._

**_It's just... There is so much to say. I'm afraid I don't know how to sum it all up._ **

He sounds scared, hesitant.

**_I don't know where to begin._ **

**_—See, I'm no expert on this, but how about you start with how you're feeling today?_ **

**_Today?_ **

**_—Yeah._ **

**_Nothing. Well I feel lost, I suppose. But empty... mostly._ **

**_—Pardon? What do you mean by empty?_ **

**_I feel nothing. Empty. I've lost the ability to care anymore._ **

**_—About?_ **

_Okay. Good. Keep asking questions. Make him tell you. Find out what happened. Please, Bobby. Please._

**_About everything. School, my family, myself. I don't care anymore._ **

**_—How about friends?_ **

**_What of them?_ **

**_—You have friends, don't you Castiel?_ **

**_No. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I am a pariah around these halls._ **

**_—That can't be true. What about that girl... Charlie? Or her sister?_ **

**_I have not spoken to either of them in a long time._ **

**_—All right... What about Dean? Now you can't tell me you two ain't friends. I've seen you talk to that rascal more times than I can count._ **

_Gee, thanks Bobby._ Dean waits for Castiel's reply. It's quiet for a while, then Castiel speaks. 

**_Dean is... Different._ **

Dean's heart picks up speed at Castiel's mention of his name.

**_—So you care about him._ **

**_Yes. But—_ **

**_—See? You do care about something._ **

**_You didn't let me finish. I'm not so sure about him now, either._ **

Dean's heart drops.

**_—Why? Did something bad happen between you two?_ **

**_No. Well, yes. It was my fault._ **

**_—Did you say something that upset him? Or was that boy just being the dumbass that he is and got offended for no damn reason?_ **

Castiel laughs. A laugh! Bobby got him to laugh. Even if it's at Dean's expense, he is okay with that.

**_No. It's just... I pushed him away._ **

**_—Why?_ **

**_Because of everything. One thing piling over another. It became unbearable and I had to make him leave._ **

**_—So the things he did just got too much for you?_ **

**_No, I meant everything else. I... I was drowning in my problems. I didn't want to pull him down with me, you know? After all he has done for me... I can't find it in myself to ask for more. And it got to a point where I became tired._ **

**_—Tired of what? Asking him for help?_ **

**_No._ **

**_—Then what? You're going to have to say a lot more than that._ **

**_I grew tired of trying in general. Trying to reach out. Trying to apologize. I grew tired of living._ **

Dean hits the seat of the bench with the side of his hand. He grits his teeth. _Come on, Bobby, that's your cue._

**_—Hold your horses there, boy. Do you know what just came out of your mouth?_ **

_Bobby, you know him enough to know he meant every word he just said. He's dropping you hints, now do something!_

**_Yes. I do. And... I want to stop feeling that way. So I came and talked to you._ **

**_—Let’s go back to the start. How did we get in this mess, Castiel?_ **

**_We? Or did you mean how I got here?_ **

**_—Okay, you. What happened? How did you get to this point?_ **

**_Nothing happened. I've... It's always been like this._ **

**_—That can't be true. So you're saying all your life you've wanted to die?_ **

Dean flinches. _Trust you to be blunt in times like that, Bobby._

**_Yes._**

Dean rubs his face with his hands.

**_And day by day it gets worse. It never gets better._ **

**_—What makes it worse?_ **

**_A lot of things, Mr. Singer. Especially when—no, never mind that._ **

**_—Now don't leave me hanging here. What is it?_ **

**_Call it a snowball effect. Like I said, the problems started stacking up high and I just can't carry them around anymore. The rumors, and the lies, and the betrayal... It's all too much. Life is too much._ **

**_—Rumors?_ **

**_Yes, rumors about me. Have you heard any of them?_ **

**_—No. But teachers tend to get left out of student gossip. Especially if the teacher is a geezer like me._ **

**_I see._ **

_Stop joking around, Bobby._

**_—Now these rumors... These are the reasons why you don't feel like living anymore?_ **

**_No, not of all them are rumors._ **

**_—Okay..._ **

**_Please listen._ **

_Please Bobby. Listen to him._ Dean runs his hands through his hair and tugs. He clenches his teeth. _But this already happened,_ Dean thinks. _Even if you pray your hardest, nothing is going to change._

**_The rumors... I thought I could get away from them. I believed, for a very long time, that one day the rumors will cease and everything will be all right. Instead they've gotten worse. The rumors have gotten way out of control and I'm finding it very hard to cope. Things kept happening to me and I seem to be always put in horrible situations against my will._ **

**_—But that's part of life! In life, you will always be shoved in all kinds of crap you hate._ **

**_Yes I understand, however—_ **

**_—Boy, this is high school. With hundreds of teenagers stuck in one place for eight hours a day, some idiots are going to do dumb things for entertainment. They're just looking for buttons to push. Those kids aren't worth your time._ **

**_Yes, but—_ **

**_—And I get it. When you're in high school, you feel like every one is out to get you. It happens to the best of us. You think it's some big conspiracy or something. Like something’s going to pop out of the woodwork._ **

**_Mr. Singer I—_ **

**_—Castiel, whatever it is you're going through, it's going to pass. You're a good kid. You'll be fine._ **

_Fuck. No. Bobby, no. Say something else, Bobby. Anything else but that._

**_—If it's really bothering you, why don't you patch things up with Dean? Or do you want me to have a word with the students causing you trouble?_ **

**_No! That's not what I want!_ **

Silence. All Dean can hear is Castiel's labored breathing. 

**_—Then what do you want?_ **

**_I don't know. But it's not that._ **

_Come on, Bobby. Give him more options._

**_—As far as I can tell, you only got one option._ **

**_What is it?_ **

**_—If you don't want to confront the people making your life miserable, and you don't want to fix the rough patch between you and your friends, the only advice I can give you is to move on, Castiel._ **

**_Excuse me?_ **

**_—Move on. Move beyond this issue._ **

**_You think I should do nothing._ **

_No. Say no._ Dean bites down on his lip to keep himself from screaming. He can taste the metallic tang of blood in his tongue. He tugs harder at his hair.

**_—I don't see any other way. If you want a second opinion on the issue, do you want me to refer you to one of the counsellors?_ **

**_No. It's all right. Thank you._ **

**_—Castiel, if I said something that doesn't sit right with you I'm sorry. I just think there's nothing else for you to do._ **

**_No, you were right. Sometimes I just have to get over it and move on. I understand what you mean perfectly, Mr. Singer. I think we're done here. I got exactly what I came for._ **

**_—Castiel, wait. What did you mean by that?_ **

Dean hears footsteps, and a door clicking shut. Now a zipper. Then the recorder rubbing through fabric.

**_I left his room. I'm walking down the hall._**

Castiel's voice is clearer. Louder.

**_His door is closed._ **

A pause. 

**_And it's staying closed. He's not coming. He's letting me go._ **

_I'm sorry, Cas._

**_So there you have it. Strike three, ladies and gentlemen. Because once again, I made it clear I needed help. And once again, I got shot down._ **

**_You know what three strikes mean, don't you?_ **

Dean punches the bench seat. A loose nail cuts through one of his knuckles. Dean hisses, but hits it again and again and again, with one word repeating itself over and over again in his head. _Cas._ Only Cas. Will always be only Cas. 

**_None of you cared._ **

_I did, Cas. I still do._

**_I asked for help, but none of you cared enough to listen. And that... That is what I needed to find out._ **

**_And I did find out._ **

His footsteps continue. Picking up speed. 

**_And I’m sorry._ **

The recorder clicks off. With his head down, Dean begins to cry. Sam wraps his arms around Dean's shoulders and pulls his older brother to him. Dean doesn't remember when Sam got there, but he doesn't care. He buries himself in the crook of Sam's neck and cries.

_If only Cas had told me. If only he had let me in. I would have helped him. I would have stayed with him for as long as he needed me._

The tape clicks over and continues playing. The recorder whirrs and there's a click in the headphones. Dean stays still, holds his breath. Then he hears Castiel's voice, light and deep and warm.

**_Thank you._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, my lovely petunias. The second to last chapter. I'm NOT READY to end this yet :( 
> 
> Anyways, I'd just like to say thank you thank you thank you for all your lovely comments on Dean's tape. All of them made me absolutely happy. :) I skipped merrily to places. That's how happy I was. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	15. ELAPSE (Epilogue)

THAT NIGHT

Sam drives Dean around town to clear his head. Dean is silent, _the quietest he's ever been his whole life,_ Sam thinks. Sam drives until his older brother's eyes aren't red anymore, until his breathing is even and is not punctuated by sobs and sniffs and gasps. He drives Dean to the convenience store and buys a first aid kit. He cleans and wraps and tapes up Dean's wound but still, Dean is quiet. Dean doesn't even protest, doesn't say _'I can do that on my own I'm not a princess like you'_. He's just... quiet. 

It's unnerving. 

Sam drives them home, and all of the sudden it's like a switch is turned on inside Dean's head. Sam sees Dean take a big gulp of breath, closing his eyes as if he is calming himself down. He then turns to Sam and _smirks_ at him. He climbs out of the Impala and jogs to the front door, opening it with a flourish. Sam walks a few steps behind him, the box of tapes tucked underneath his arm. He knows what Dean is doing... And he simply can not watch this. Sam enters the living room to see Dean scoop up their mom and hug her tight. Mary struggles and squeals, making Dean laugh. If it was any other day, Dean's laugh would have had Sam grinning just at the sound of it, but all it's doing right now is clench at Sam's insides, making him feel sick.

_Don't do this, Dean. You won't get better like this._

Then his mom notices the bandage wrapped around Dean's knuckles and asks where it came from. For a second, Sam thinks that _this is it, game over_ however Dean lies to their mother like he's been doing it forever, even though Sam knows Dean has never lied to her. Dean would rather stab himself in the eye than do that. _Right now though, I guess the circumstances are different._

They eat dinner with Dean persistently keeping up his façade. Sam watches him carefully, waiting for the rope to snap, waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never does. Dean smiles and laughs and jokes the entire time. If Sam didn't know about the tapes, he wouldn't have thought that there is anything wrong with his brother. 

After dinner Dean claims that it had been a long day and he just wants to rest. He kisses their mom and nods at their dad on the way to the bottom of the stairs. They didn't even notice. 

But Sam does. He observes Dean the whole climb up. He sees the way Dean's shoulders droop the moment he reaches the top of the stairs. He catches Dean's shaky hand as it runs through his hair. Sam watches Dean until he is out of eyeshot. 

Sam wants to ask. He wants to fuss about his brother but he can't. He knows that that is not what Dean needs right now. And it's terrible, how the only thing—the only person—Dean needs, is the person Sam can't bring to him.

Dean opens his bedroom door. _Well isn't that nice. It looks exactly like how I left it this morning._

He peels off the bandage around his knuckles, crumples it and throws it over his shoulder. Flexing his hand, he winces at the pain. _I've had worse._ Dean is broken out of his reverie when he hears a soft knock on the door. He opens it to Sam holding the blue box in his hands. They don't say anything. Dean takes the box, while Sam shifts from one foot to the other. Dean raises his eyebrows. Sam hesitates, pausing for a second before he wraps his arms tight around Dean. Dean opens his mouth to protest but Sam beats him to it.

"I know what you're going to say, Macho Man. But before you say it I just want you to know that whenever you need me, I'm here. If you need someone to punch or if you just want to talk about him. I'll be here."

Dean sighs and nods. He pats Sam's back and Sam pulls away. Sam hurries back to his room and Dean closes his door. Once again, he is left with the blue box. He doesn't waste time. He wraps it with a brown paper bag and clear packing tape. On top of the box, he writes Tom Willis—an alias Bobby uses. _Because Bobby Singer is a paranoid bastard_. He's set up an assload of ghost addresses and PO boxes under different names just because he doesn't want people to know exactly where he lives. The address under the name Tom Willis is the one Bobby uses the most, checking it every couple of days so Dean plans to send the tapes to that one. He doesn't bother writing a return address.

Once he's done, Dean trudges to his bed. He fights the urge to collapse to the floor, to just lie there until the months have passed and the years have gone by and he's forgotten all about what happened today. Until he doesn't feel like a big part of him is missing now that he can't hear Castiel's voice anymore.

Dean climbs to bed still wearing the clothes he's had on since that morning. He twists and turns as he thinks about tomorrow. _I don't want to go to school. I don't want to face the other people on the tapes. But then again, I know that no matter how long I stay absent for, when I come back I'll still have to face them. I'll see all of them, but not the person I really want to see._

Dean doesn't sleep.

 

THE NEXT DAY

Dean eases the Impala onto the school parking lot. After turning the engine off, he sits, concentrating on his breathing to slow it down. _Calm down. You can do this._

He walks across the front lawn and towards the glass double doors, opening it with less bravado than he planned. He walks along the empty hallway. He feels miserable. 

Dean takes his time walking to his locker. He passes by Castiel's locker, and idly remembers the times when he'd use to sprint from his previous class to the lockers just so he could talk to Cas. He remembers when he used to walk Cas to his classes, ignoring people's stares as he did so. Dean remembers thinking _Screw them, I don't care. I'm with Cas. I'm on top of the world._

But Cas didn't know that. He didn't know how happy he made Dean. He didn't know how Dean felt about him. Because Dean remembers being next to Cas and being too afraid to tell him. Dean would look at Cas and think how beautiful and intelligent and unique Castiel was, but Dean was too much of a chicken to tell Cas what he thought. Dean would make Cas smile and he'd say to himself, _God, I think I love you,_ but he was too scared of ruining their friendship. 

Dean was too afraid to try, so he didn't. He lost his chance. Cas is gone, leaving nothing but a blue box filled with audio cassette tapes in his wake. And even those aren't in Dean's possession anymore.

_Tomorrow. Tomorrow Bobby will receive the tapes and he will know everything. By the end, he'll know I sent them. By the end, he'll be left with the tapes. By the end, Cas will still be gone._

Walking to first period Physics, Dean knows that Castiel's empty desk—the desk that will be empty for the rest of the year—is proof of that. 

 

FOUR YEARS LATER

"You know, Stanford is a big school. Are you sure you can handle it, Shortstop?" 

"Shut up. I'm way taller than you now, Dean."

Dean laughs as he walks to a coffee shop near his apartment. He hears Sam huff and grumble over the phone, and Dean laughs even louder. 

"Whatever, Sam. Anyway I think you're worrying too much about that interview."

" _That interview_ is really important to me."

"Woah, sorry." Dean holds his hands up in surrender even though he knows Sam can't see him. "I know."

"What if I blow it?" 

"Then you'll find a rich cougar and she'll pay all your bills." 

"Dean."

"You won't. This law school interview will be a piece of cake, man. Trust me." 

"Okay. Thanks, Dean."

Dean rolls his eyes at Sam's nervousness. He crosses the street without looking at where he's going, and so he almost crashes into a woman wearing too-high heels and she pulls a finger at him. _I hate New York. I hate how it's always crowded. I hate the women who can't even apologize when they're the ones who slammed into you. I hate how it's nothing like Lawrence._

Dean sighs. _But see, I'll take crowded over seeing Cas everywhere for the rest of my life._

It isn't like Dean hasn't moved on, because he has. He did his best to move on. But seeing Cas— _the ghost of Cas_ —became too much for Dean. Everywhere he went, the buildings and the streets made him think of blue eyes and deep voices and slow kisses and it suffocated Dean. Being in school with the people on the tapes was hard enough. Seeing Castiel's face in every crowd made it impossible for Dean.

So he applied to a far enough university in order to get away, and luckily enough, he was accepted. It was for the best, if he stayed any longer, he didn't know what he would have done. 

_I probably would've killed one of them._

And if it wasn't for Sam, Dean would have done it, no hesitation. Whenever he saw Lucifer or Balthazar or Ruby walk past him in the hallway, Dean felt the urge to grab, to punch, to kick, to _hurt_ them as much as they hurt Cas. And he got close to carrying it out, too. One day he snapped and pushed Lucifer to the lockers. He raised his arm to hit the bastard, but suddenly Sam was there, and then Dean was being pulled out onto the parking lot, with Sam telling him to calm down. Sam shook Dean by the shoulders saying, _It's not going to change a thing. Hurting them won't take away the pain Cas felt. It's not going to bring Cas back. He's not coming back._

Sam took Dean home. Dean didn't attend school for a week.

So really, leaving Lawrence was for the best. 

The minute Dean graduated from high school, he drove the Impala all the way to New York. It had been hard on his parents, as well as Sam, but they understood. Well, Sam did. And that was enough.

Fast forward to four years later. Now, Dean's almost finished with his Engineering degree and Sam is in Stanford, on his way to law school. Everyone else who were on Castiel's tapes don't matter to Dean anymore. They're his past. And Dean has left that past behind when he left Lawrence.

Dean has moved on. He has. 

But that doesn't mean he's forgotten... because he hasn't. He hasn't forgotten about Castiel. Dean doesn't know if he ever will.

"Dean? _Dean._ " 

Dean snaps out of his thoughts and clears his throat. He mumbles, "Sorry, I was crossing the road. What were you saying?"

Sam goes on about Amelia, the girl he's been dating for a few weeks now. Dean tunes his brother out... which is why he almost missed it. 

He enters the coffee shop and collides with a guy who is on his way out. The guy has his head down, and so his dark messy hair covers his face from Dean's view. _He looks really familiar._ The guy apologizes, and so does Dean. The guy rushes out, and something nags at the back of Dean's mind. The guy's voice keeps replaying in Dean's head over and over again, and when the realization finally hits Dean he thinks he's going to faint. Sam calls for his name over the phone, however Dean can't seem to open his mouth to answer.

Four years later, and Dean still knows that voice. Even when it's muffled by blaring horns and overlapping conversations, Dean recognizes that voice.

_But it can't be._

"Talk to me later."

Before Sam can say goodbye, Dean presses the end call button and starts running. 

_There is absolutely no way._

Dean dodges and squeezes past pedestrians. He strains his neck to look over people's heads and find the guy. He scans the sea of people walking on the sidewalk, and finally spots him. He dodges faster. He pushes his way through the crowd harder.

_No way._

Dean wants to say something, to call his name, but he knows the guy won't hear him. He quickens his pace. 

_Almost there. Almost._

Part of him wants to ignore it. To stop walking and remind himself that this is impossible, but _what if it's him? What if, by some miracle, it's him? I can't let him slip away again._

_But this is impossible._

_I'm just getting my hopes up. It's not him. He's dead._

_But people say you know when you know. Right now, I couldn't be more sure. It's him. I feel it in my gut._

As the distance between him and the guy widens, Dean grows desperate. He pushes every passerby who stood in his way. With his heart drumming in his chest, Dean calls out, loud at the top of his lungs, "Cas!" The guy stops walking. Dean stops running. "Cas, is that you?" Dean asks—two steps behind the guy—his voice a whisper now. They're both frozen, and Dean holds his breath. People are walking around them, unaware of how important this is. How impossible this is.

_It's probably someone else. Someone who looks exactly like him. But what are the odds of that happening?_

_Please be him. Please._

The guy turns around. And for the first time, in a _very_ long time, green eyes meet blue. 

The world stops spinning. 

"Hello, Dean."

_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaannnd there it is, the end of Thirteen Reasons Why. I'd like to thank all of you for your kind support and lovely comments. You, my lovely petunias, are the best. You don't know how happy you've made me, and how much fun writing this fic was because of all of you. Thank you. 
> 
> Are you okay? Was that epilogue how you wanted the story to end? No? 
> 
> I'm thinking of writing a sequel. Would you like a sequel? If yes, comment below!
> 
> Also, I have other stories in the works. So watch out for those, kay? :)
> 
> Thank you.


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